Bright Lights and Cityscapes
by EaglesLoveSnakes
Summary: After the war, Hermione decides to dance again. Draco, a widower, has a young daughter. The only dance studio around is a Muggle one, owned by the one and only Granger, but no matter what, Draco wants his daughter to take ballet like she wishes. Even if it means he's unhappy. A story unlike any other, that deals with love, life and the world of dance. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Prologue & Birth

**A/N: I am a long time reader, first time writer!**

**No hate please :)**

**Disclaimer: If I _was_ J.K. Rowling, why would I be on ?**

**Chapter title is from the song Prologue & Birth by Audiomachine, which I think describes the chapter in my head :)**

Draco rolled the tickets through his hand. Was this a good idea? This could spark a whole new chapter in their lives. Something he hadn't even wanted to imagine. He had known her for almost five years, however, and they had gotten much closer since the incident. His mother had helped her pick out a dress for the occasion, and he had seen it. It was pink with frills was the only way he could describe it, but it was gorgeous. Draco felt his mother tap him on the shoulder and he held his breath and turned around.

"How do I look?" Came a small voice. He slowly opened his eyes and his silver eyes travelled down. Haley's light blonde hair was curled slightly, and her blue eyes that looked as if they could pierce through lead seemed to pop from the light make-up she wore. Draco's eyes widened as he looked over his four year old daughter's fancy outfit for the evening.

"Princess, you look beautiful," he said, bending down to get eye to eye with Haley. He out spread his arms for her and when she toddled over he wrapped her in a giant bear hug. "Like a _ballerina._" Draco whispered in her ear, making Haley squeal excitedly.

"Can we go now, Daddy? I wanna see the baller...balla...bellay...dancers!" she said, bouncing up and down in his strong arms. Draco gave a laugh at his daughter ambitiousness and set her back down. He had bought tickets for the London Ballet and arranged for them to see the ballerinas backstage before the show. Draco didn't love anyone more than he did Haley, and would do almost anything for her, which was why he was taking her to a beautiful show.

Draco was forced into an arranged marriage after the Second Great War and the defeat of Voldemort. His father went into hiding as to not be found by the many Aurors cascading the country in search of Death Eaters. His mother, however, was convinced that since they left on neutral terms, the Aurors had no reason to take Lucius into custody.

Draco was a bit sceptical.

He stood up from hugging Haley and looked at his mother. He raised his eyebrows but she put up a hand. "I know, I know," Narcissa started, "When you get home, put Haley in her bath and then tuck her in to her bed. Read the Muggle story "The Princess and the Frog," kiss her head goodnight and then wait around for you to return." She recited like a robot. "I have it under control, honey, just have a good time." Narcissa kissed Draco on the head as if he were a young child again.

Draco had taken care of Haley since the moment she had been born. He had only been married two months when she had been conceived.

_"I'm pregnant," said Draco's wife, holding up a positive test. Draco's eyebrows raised in surprise. His mercury eyes were glued to the test in shock. _

_ "Are you positive?" he asked. She pushed the pink test closer to his face and he gave a chuckle. "I get that. I meant are you sure?"_

_ She gave a long, drawled out sigh, as if she'd been holding it for an eternity. "These tests are never wrong, Draco." After that there was a long pause. As if contemplating the next move in an intense game of chess. "Should we be happy?" she asked._

_ Draco shrugged. "I guess we should. It is a...a baby after all." He said, whispering the word. He was only 20 at the time and his wife was a bit younger, and neither of them had thought about starting a family. They merely were man and wife, slept together to consummate their marriage. With a willing bed partner, who could say no? Not Draco._

_ They stood there in awkward silence, his wife drawing circles on the floor and Draco watching her stomach as it moved slightly. There was a baby in there, but not just any baby, his baby._

Haley tugged on her father's pant leg, seemingly impatient. "Daddy, can we go now?" she asked, now tapping his hard knee. She was a small thing, not much taller _than_ his knee. But that was saying something, as Draco had mile-long legs. Her Tiffany blue coloured eyes were blinking wildly, staring at her father in tender way.

"Yes, Hales," Draco said, leaning down to pick up his daughter. He kissed her lightly on her cheek and wrapped his arms around her.

"Have fun!" Narcissa called as the pair made their way through the front door of the cottage only a short distance from the Manor. Draco and Haley gave small waves bye, ("Wave bye to Grandma, wave bye!" Draco had said in the high voice he used around Haley) and had Side-Apparated to a safe location: Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was a bustling area on the weekends, especially that day, Saturdays. Young witches with bags from Florish and Blotts, Madam Malkin's, and the Apothecary. Hook nosed, long nailed witches, however, came through in a hurry, along with macho wizards with scarred faces. The atmosphere today was quite dingy and dank.

A witch with natural emerald hair came up to the pair and out stuck her hand. In it was a clamped orange candy. She waved it down in Haley's face. "Sweets for the little girl?" she asked, directing the question at Haley.

Draco hugged his daughter closer to his chest as he did not recognize the treat. "No thank you," he said as politely as he could and hurried off before she could say another word.

"But Daddy!" She cried out, "Sweets!" Draco looked at his daughter with all the sympathy he could muster.

"You don't want those sweets Hun, now let''s keeping moving." Draco picked up the pace and finally walked out of the Leaky Cauldron entrance, entering the busy streets of Muggle London. They only had to walk a short distance to the theatre.

The ballet didn't start for another hour, which gave the pair a good chunk of time to meet with the ballerinas. Draco had wanted to take Haley to the ballet ever since she could toddle. He found the sensual dance enthralling and something all girls should like. Especially a Malfoy girl.

_"Push!" The Healer practically screamed at Draco's wife. Her face was scrunched up from the extreme pain and beats of sweat were dripping down her forehead. _

_ "I. Am. Trying!" She yelled back, crying as the pain overtook her. But that was it._

_ The soft crying erupted through the tension in the room._

_ "It's a girl!" Cried out the Healer, who was now holding a swaddled object in her arms. The blanket was pink, and the baby too. The Healer, Healer Parson, handed Draco the delicate human being. _

_ Almost automatically Draco's heart swelled three times it's size from the euphoria in his body as he looked into the crying face of his daughter. She had a full head of Malfoy platinum blonde hair, and until she cracked open her eyes, he couldn't be sure of the colour. "She's absolutely beautiful," he said in a cracked voice._

_ "Little brave one she is," came the Healer, who had a Scandinavian accent. "Her heart rate dropped dramatically but somehow she made it through unharmed." Draco smiled wider at this. He thought if he smiled more, he'd ripped his cheeks. "We have a name for that where I'm from," he explained. "Haley."_

"Passes please," said a tough voice at the entrance to the backstage. A wizard, (sorry, Muggle) with a burnt face was holding out one of his beefy, elephant sole sized hands.

"Of course my good man," Draco said somewhat politely, and reached for the pocket Haley was not currently playing in. He pulled out two laminated passes and showed them to the protective guard.

"You may admit," he said, stepping out of the way of a skin-tight door. Draco resisted the urge to scoff at the irony, and instead walked steadily in while holding Haley in his arms.

The backstage had charcoal walls and stage. All the dancers were wearing costumes of either blue or red, stretching on the floor or a barre off stage. A jittery petite girl in a red outfit that matched her hair ballet-ran over to Draco. He was a bit uncomfortable about all of the girls in general, and when the ginger ran over, he became more uneasy.

"Hi!" Said the girl, a bit too energetic. "You must be the lucky two with backstage passes! Welcome, I'm Ellen!" she said, outstretching her hand. Draco lightly shook it.

"You're last name isn't Weasley is it?" he asked, observing Ellen's hair as she high-fived Haley. He was scared of the answer, but alas she gave a confused look and shook her head, turning her attention to Draco.

"Why? Did you mistake me for someone-?" she asked but Draco held up a hand to stop her.

"Just curious." he said, giving in and smiling slightly now. He placed Haley on the ground so she couldn't wiggle in his arms any longer, and Ellen bent down to get eye to eye with her.

"What's your name?" she asked her, pressing her finger on her nose lightly. Haley gave a little giggle and a large grin.

"Malfoy. Haley Malfoy. H-A-L-E-Y M-A-L-F-O-Y." she spelled loudly. Ellen gave a chuckle at Haley's cuteness.

"We have a dancer here named Haley, too. Except she spells it H-A-I-L-E-Y. Would you like to meet her?" Ellen asked. Haley nodded her head and looked up to her father for his permission.

"Go ahead, have fun." Draco said, giving his hands a gestured that said 'shoo and have fun.' He went over to off stage and crossed his arms, watching his daughter interact with the ballerinas.

"Hailey, there's a little girl here who has the same name as you!" Ellen called over to a girl who was stretching on the barre. She had dark, curly chocolate coloured hair and matching coloured eyes. She was extremely tiny, probably just about 1.5 metres tall, but seemed bright and spunky. If Draco had to guess her ethnicity he would guess part Hispanic.

Hailey trotted over and bent down to little Haley's line of vision. "Hi Haley, I'm Hailey."

The two Haley's talked for a bit about dance, and how Hailey had been dancing since she was three. Now she was 22, and one of the best in the Company. Ellen went away to warm-up more before the show started, giving Draco a look to go have fun as she passed.

But Draco was good from afar. He enjoyed watching his little girl do "ballet" with the older girls, laughing and having a great time. She was still so innocent and playful. Draco wanted her to stay that way, but there wasn't any way to stop her from growing up.

The show was great and during the entire Romeo & Juliet ballet, Haley would lean over and point to a girl, saying her name in her daddy's ear. Draco felt immense pride in Haley and hugged her tighter throughout the show. When the dancers bowed, and audience clapped, Haley clapped the loudest of them all, bouncing up and down.

When they left the theatre and walked to the Leaky Cauldron, Haley was seated in Draco's arms. "Daddy?" she asked, looking at the shiny moon in the distance.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he asked her, rubbing her small back. Haley whispered into Draco's ear for dramatic effect.

"I want to be a belayrena." Haley said, smiling excitedly at the thought of dancing ballet.

"Ballerina." Draco corrected. "And if you want to, I could try and find a place for you to dance at. I'm sure there's a Muggle school or a Magic school for it. Anything for you."

Haley smiled and placed her head on Draco's shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. She loved her father and didn't think anything could tear them apart.

**A/N: The title of this story is based off the title of the song "Bright Lights and Cityscapes" by Sara Bareilles :) I do not own that song. Please review and tell me if I did a good job! I'll try and update as often as I can!**


	2. I Know Everything You Don't Want Me To

**A/N: Chapter title comes from the song, "Poison and Wine" by Civil Wars :) **

**Again, I own virtually nothing, and may I thanked everyone who Followed this story, Favourited it or Reviewed it! I love you all! Now to the chapter!**

Hermione's eyes glanced over the paper. Why must these decisions be so hard? Both girls were fantastic dancer, but there was only room for one in the Senior Company of Young Dancers of London. She tapped the pencil on one photo, of Elsie, a spunky 14 year old who had been taking multiple private lessons over the summer to improve her technique, and then to Penelope, a shy 13 year old girl who had gorgeous lines and fantastic work on the floor.

"Lacey!" Hermione called out the door. She heard her voice echo and cringed. She hated the sound of her own voice, she thought she sounded somewhat nasally. She brushed back part of her bushy hair behind her ear and her fingers brushed past a cartilage piercing on her right ear that was still raw and tender. Lacey, her best friend and co-worker at the dance studio, had convinced her to get it to start out the new school year. Needless to say there was puddles of blood and many failed attempts at piercing Hermione's ear. Apparently, even helping defeat a dark wizard didn't mean you could handle getting your ear pierced.

A small girl ran into Hermione's office. She had on a flowing emerald shirt that cut at her (pierced) belly button and coal black leggings that hugged her curves. She was a bit chestier than Hermione, which she never really cared about, however she wasn't as brainy. "What is it Herman?" asked Lacey from the doorway. Hermione held up the two photos from her corner of the floor she was sitting in and sighed.

"I cannot choose! I need your help!" she exclaimed, patting the side next to her. "And you know I don't like that nickname," she said, giving her friend a look. Lacey leaned against the door-jam and shook her head.

"You know the job you had when you took over the Company when Mrs. Maynard left. Don't back out now," Lacey warned, shaking a finger at Hermione. "Besides, I'm just the...the secretary! I know nothing about dancing! Be strong, Herman." she shook a fist and gave a fake-pleaded look to Hermione.

"At least talk it through with me?" Hermione asked with an eye roll. "Please?" She puppy-lipped and Lacey ran a manicured hand through her dark black dyed hair. It was straightened today, but other days it was braided, crimped, curled, waved, pixie cut, extended, ponytail or up in an messy bun. She didn't sit but merely looked at the photos.

"Elsie." she said, pointing to the smiling blonde in the moving photo. She winked and gave a laugh at the revelation. "She has less years left here, that's simple maths." Lacey said, shrugging. Hermione stood up, her bushy hair immediately dropped from the end of her stress, and hugged her friend.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Hermione exclaimed and then backed away. Lacey looked unperturbed from the abundant hug. "Sorry, I've just been-" Lacey held up a hand. Hermione noticed the deep bags under her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows. "Lace, what's wrong?" she asked.

Lacey shook her head, "It's nothing," she said.

"It's something!"

"Nothing!"

"It's something! Tell or I'll get out the Veritaserum." Hermione threatened. Lacey sighed, knowing Hermione wouldn't give it up.

"Isaac broke up with me last week, but I didn't say anything because I knew you were busy with auditions." Lacey mumbled, breaking Hermione's eye contact. She looked down at her feet and Hermione took a step back. Isaac and Lacey had been dating over three years and anyone who met them thought they'd get married.

"Oh, Lacey, I'm so sorry. What happened?" she asked, sitting back down and brushing through her hair. Lacey waved her hands nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal.

After classes during the week always seemed to be gossip time, either from the news on Dean Thomas' success in getting into Wizengamot, ("And you went to school with him?" Lacey asked in disbelief, since she was from America. Hermione had nodded, "He shared dormitories with Ron and Harry,) to the "sudden" retirement of Rita Skeeter. They had conversed in spiritual fashion (or, in a simpler term, had a party.) This day was only different since it concerned Lacey.

"It was a month before our 4th year anniversary, and knowing Isaac I thought he'd be spontaneous and do something nice before or after. Maybe take me on a vacation or even propose. But last week he took me out to dinner. The entire time he seemed nervous and wouldn't kiss me and I was getting a bit worried.

"He paid for the dinner but hardly talked, letting me go on and on about my work here. Then he took me for a walk in the park, again, being silent. I thought maybe he was just nervous to propose, but then, right outside of Florean's, he turned to me, gave me a kiss and said 'I can't see you anymore.'"

Lacey gave a long sigh and Hermione looked confused. "Did he say why he couldn't see you any longer?" she asked. "Isaac was the perfect wizard for you!"

She shook her head. "All he said was he was sorry for leading me on before and that I was better off without him." Lacey rubbed her wrists, something Hermione learned meant that she was either upset or horny. Probably both. "Well, I think I'm going to go now." Lacey said, monotonously, and hurried off before Hermione could put in her two-sense.

Hermione's face fell, she felt horrible about what happened to her friend. "Goodnight Lacey," she called before the door closed. She'd make it up to her friend, she'd buy her something nice.

She turned out all of the lights, dimming them slowly until she was engulfed in darkness. In her time hanging with Muggles (and Lacey, her only other witch friend besides Ginny), she had adapted to getting a cell phone, and now used it as a torch in the night. Living in a Muggle community, however, did not stop her from Apparating to her small flat on the other side of town.

Hermione, after the war, went through a state of shock. She eventually recovered where her parents were, and recover their memories. She explained everything she did, and why, and they were understanding. But Hermione, however, needed some resolution. She moved to America for a year and a half, and when she was there, saw a flyer for a dance class. She had been in ballet when she was much younger, but never thought of starting it up again. But all of her happy memories from her childhood seemed to be from dance class and she joined in.

Returning back to London, she pursued a job as a teacher at the Young Dancers of London, and when owner retired, she passed on the studio to Hermione, who was currently at her first year. It was a lot more stressful than she anticipated, and in preparation would fall asleep in her office, or bawl tears when a class didn't work. She never wanted something to be more perfect. But that was a lie. She had wanted her relationship with Ron to be perfect.

Their relationship had ended on a low note, with Ron screaming words at her she had never wanted to even hear in her head. He had been terribly drunk then, but in the morning he claimed her regretted nothing. That's when Hermione left for America.

Since then, her friendship with Ron had been patched, falling apart, but still patched. She saw him whenever she went over to the Burrow to see Ginny, Harry or George. They'd give each other coy nods and looked away. Ron had apologized, but it was obvious that they were never going to get together. Which was a shame, considering how long it had taken Hermione to fall for Ron, she was now at Square 1 again, and would stay there for possibly seven years.

Hermione let herself wallow in self-pity over the break up for a measly three weeks, and after that, she got her act together and pushed her work into her face. She immersed herself in dance until she couldn't feel her feet some days. But it was something she intended on doing for a long time, and the more she practised, the better.

Eventually, she wanted to move her business to a more...magical location for girls 2-11 and 12-18 over the summer, but for now, she was stuck with Muggles.

Which she didn't mind. But it would be nice whenever someone got a bleeding nose, that she could say a simple _Scourgify_ instead of spend class time searching for wipes, only to not find any, and have to have the dancers simply dance _around _the blood.

Hermione's thoughts drifted back to Lacey and her poor breakup that she left abruptly after speaking of. She understood and respected that, but could already see the future of Lacey knocking on her door, her face tear-stricken, and holding a carton of chocolate ice cream. Hermione's eyes drifted to the clock on her counter. 9:02. The stores she was thinking of closed at 10, so she had enough time. In no time, she had arrived at the best Muggle store. Lenaiah's Lingerie.

Nothing said forgetting about a boyfriend like sexy lingerie.

Hermione never had use for the things she bought there. When Lacey questioned her about it, she merely said, "Just saving it for future use." However, both of them knew it was just code word for, "Buying-sexy-things-to-make-me-feel-sexy-until-someone-shags-me." But the first one sounded better in public.

"Clearance, clearance." Hermione mumbled as she hurried to the back of the store. She didn't have an overflowing amount of students, ergo, not much money, either. The clearance rack was bigger than the door entry, and stacked back deeper than the largest studio at YD of L. Cheetah print, red stitch, thongs, cheekys, crotch-less, push-up bras, and in the back, an entire sexy cat suit.

Hermione felt slightly uncomfortable in such an...erotic store, since she never really did, well, _much. _Lacey was more the sleeper-around-er, and Hermione just stayed at the studio all day and night. Even if she _did_ have a boyfriend, she would hardly see him, regardless.

After 20 minutes of searching (and three announcements that the store was going to close) Hermione finally picked a matching pair. A push-up black lace and zebra print bra and a black lace in the front and cheeky zebra print in the back for the knickers. It seemed to scream Lacey, and in no time, the lingerie was wrapped and ready. She'd give it to her tomorrow, to start the day off good. And the next day was Friday, meaning the end of classes for the week, and a relaxing day for Hermione.

When she arrived back to her flat, and owl was perched at the window. It was Lacey's barn owl, Oh Double You El, with a note in her attempt at chicken-scratch. On it said:

_ H-_

_ Forgot to tell you that a dad wants to meet with you tomorrow to get his daughter enrolled in ballet. He dropped off the letter manually through the slot while you were teaching jazz. Oh, and by the way, those turny-things you guys were doing looked great! Thumbs up, I'm jealous! Wait, stop Lacey, you're digressing. Anyhow, he'll be at the studio at 10 before classes start with his daughter. He seemed rather excited in the letter (can you seem excited in a letter?) and in it he wrote "and I'd like to meet with your Muggle teacher" so I assumed he's of magical decent. Just thought you ought to know so you won't be so surprised tomorrow. _

_ -L_

_ Oh, and P.S. his name is 'Draco Malfoy,' so you don't have to ask. ;) _

Hermione set down the letter and her head began to spin. She became woozy, and sat down on her beige plush loveseat. She put a hand on her stomach and felt as if she was going to be sick. But eventually the nausea released and Hermione was able to breath again.

Draco Malfoy. With a daughter. Whose daughter? And why, oh why, would he want to enroll her in ballet lessons at _her _studio? Didn't he care that a 'Mudblood' ran it?

_Oh wait, _Hermione thought. _He probably doesn't know... _

This was going to be fun.

**A/N: I finished this the day I published Chapter 1, so I thought I'd post this the next day, give people time to read it! (Technically, I finished this at 1 am Saturday, so really I finished it the next day, but hey!) I hope you liked this chapter, I tried to make it longer than the last one, and less talky, so I apologize if you didn't like the background and descriptions. :( But I won't know unless you Review and tell me ;) **


	3. Hello

**A/N: This chapter is based from the song, "Hello Hello" by Missy Higgins! I do not own this song. Hope you enjoy it :) This one will definitely be a lot longer than the first two. **

**I OWN NOTHING ;)**

**And a big thanks to all who Favourite, Review, or Follow me or my story :) It truly makes my day to get a email saying one of those things :D**

Draco bustled through the long corridors of St. Mungo's, going this way and that to get to his patient. He had arrived late on complete accident because Haley took longer than normal to fall asleep, now making each of his stops longer than usual. She was too excited and jittery about meeting her ballet teacher the next morning, and Draco had to chase her around the cottage until he caught her, made bubbles on her stomach with his mouth, and lay her in her bed. Haley was sometimes almost too much to handle.

Almost.

The tired father made his way to his last patient, Aaron Ryder, on the Fourth Floor, for Spell Damage. Aaron had been under the effects of the Imperious Curse for most of his life by his father, Damien Ryder. Since his father was imprisoned in Azkaban, Aaron had lost almost all locomotive skills and went crazy, since he never was in control of his body. Being 31, Aaron had lasting damage and would most likely stay at St. Mungo's for the remainder of his life. However the Healers, like Draco, were persistent in helping all patients in any way they could.

"Hello Aaron, how are you today?" Draco asked, walking into the semi-private room. Though it was only occupied by Aaron, it was still considered semi-private until the second bed was removed.

Draco made his way over to the side of his patient's bed and grabbed the clipboard. He scribbled something down in shorthand and looked up for a response. Aaron didn't talk, he almost couldn't, so Draco had to point to pictures of happy, sad, tired, sick or content people and wait for a nod.

He pointed to the picture of the happy, laughing people, posing for a fun picture. Aaron did nothing. Next Draco motioned to the picture of a witch with a straight-line smile, for contentedness. Again, nothing. Aaron wasn't sad or tired either. Draco touched the sick photo of a wizard with a sickly green face. Aaron nodded slightly.

"I know you are," Draco said, biting his lip sadly. He wrote down 'sick' next to 15 others of the same word. It almost looked like it said 'siote', so he erased it and rewrote it in capital letters: SICK.

The young Healer walked over to the heart monitor, brain monitor, and magic capability monitor. Each were going down steadily every day. Today was the seventh day in a row where every statistic were going down 0.03 percent each day, so Aaron would have to get a shot.

"I'm afraid I have bad news, " Draco said while rummaging through the cabinet. "You have to have a shot today." Even though Aaron could hardly move his face muscles, Draco could see a slight face fall. He gave a smile though and leaned in closer to his patient. "Would you like to hear some Haley stories?"

Haley stories went way back when Draco first became Aaron's Healer, when Haley was two years old. He was still very proud of his young daughter, and would often digress and talk Aaron's ear off about the adorable (or troublesome) things that Haley did. Aaron seemed to like the stories, so Draco told him more whenever he was upset or had to get a shot or something else uncomfortable.

Aaron gave a small nod and Draco's smile widened as he got the shot and wipes. "Well," he said, wiping a bit of Aaron's skin on his left arm. The moonlight shone in the background and bounced off the tip of the needle that was slowly making its way to Aaron's skin. "Haley is going to start dance classes soon. I took her to the ballet last weekend and she enjoyed it a lot. When I told her I found a place for her to enrol, she didn't stop jumping up and down for three hours." Draco laughed, looking Aaron in the face as the needle point went in. He had to make sure to keep eye contact, or Aaron would flip out.

"She even bounced around when I tried to give her a bath! Needless to say I was wetter than she was afterwards!" Draco gave a big chuckle as he pulled the needle out, and Aaron's lips curled. Draco rid of the infected needle and replaced the tip.

Draco had got into Healing because after seeing all of the hurt and death in the Battle of Hogwarts, he didn't want to be the one who caused the pain, but to heal it. He supposed having Haley lightened his otherwise cold and mean demeanour, but also helping people day after day. Voldemort would have been so disappointed in his former Death Eater.

Yes, former. Draco regretted everything that had happened when he was 16 and now every day used a Vanishing Spell to temporarily hide his Mark. Haley didn't know about his dark past, and he never wanted her to find out. It would be the most humiliating day of his life, and he couldn't deal with that.

At 9 am, he was finally off his shift and Apparated home. He was not a fan of Portkeys or Floo. A Malfoy never relied on an object nor did he enjoy soot getting in his perfect platinum blonde hair. Or at least that's what Lucius always told him.

Draco slugged in the doorway, beat from the racing morning. Sitting at the breakfast table was Narcissa, as usual, with Haley, who had her hair pinned back nicely. Soon all of the lethargy left Draco and he swooped his daughter up in his arms. "Good morning Princess," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Mornin' Dae," said Haley with her nickname for her father. When she was younger, the double 'D' in the word 'Daddy' was too hard, so she ignored the 'd's' altogether and just said "Dae." Or pronounced "Dah-EE." Draco still didn't understand it, but let her say it, knowing he'd miss the days when she stopped calling him "Dae" and only called him "Daddy" or "Father."

"How was she?" Draco whispered to his mother while he bounced Haley in his arms.

"Absolutely fine," Narcissa said smiling. "However she did have the nightmares again, I could tell." She said through her teeth. Draco nodded, understanding. He had dealt with his tossing and turning daughter for almost two years. However when he got his new shift at St. Mungo's he had to have his mother stay at the house at night. Some days he missed the sleepless nights, hugging his daughter while she cried in her dreams.

"Hey Haley," Draco said, getting his daughter's attention. "Why don't you go get your toy ballerina to show your teacher? The one I got you last week?" He suggested, setting her down.

"Okay, Dae!" Haley exclaimed, running to her room to grab the pretty doll, leaving Draco and Narcissa alone.

"You need to take initiative on this," Narcissa said, trying to reach Draco's gaze. However he firmly kept his eyes watching his feet shuffle the ground.

"She hasn't said anything in a year," Draco muttered, "Why should I do something about nightmares that she hasn't even told me about in a year?" he asked. "I don't want to upset her..."

Narcissa sighed but didn't stop trying to persuade her son. "Listen Draco," her voice was a bit rough sounding now, "I've seen her sleep, she's tossing around, twisting the blankets, crying too, moaning from emotional pain. That's not something a four year old should be dreaming about! Haley should be waking up and telling us dreams about how she and a unicorn went across the rainbow to an island of princesses and ballerinas!"

Draco sighed and placed his head in his hands. "You're right," he mumbled, and looked up to his mother. "But I have no idea what to do. It wasn't supposed to be like this! I was supposed to a have a wife to do all this, not be alone! She should be the one thinking of ideas, not me!"

Narcissa looked appalled. She placed a hand to her chest and her mouth gaped open slightly. "Women are not for 'thinking of ideas', they're for more. If you think that you'll never get a girl to love you. Your wife never loved you, you never loved her, but if you keep that attitude then you will most likely stay a single father." She whispered-yelled at him. "Besides, if she were still here Haley wouldn't be having the dreams."

Draco's face could be only described as if his mother had just thrown cake in his face and called him the worst name in Magical history. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?" he asked, rubbing his temples. While it seemed he was developing pain from the argument, it seemed to have been feeding Narcissa, and she stood taller with each lash.

"I think she needs to see someone." She said proudly, pointing her face in a very Malfoy way. Draco, however did not find this something to be proud of.

"See someone?" he exclaimed. "She's not mental! She's a four year old girl who went through a traumatic experience! She doesn't need to see someone, she has me!" Draco began to wring his hands around. "I'm good enough."

His mother sighed, finally ceasing a little. "Haley needs to talk to someone. Someone she knows won't judge her or knows about her history. Someone to listen." Draco understood, but before he could say anything Haley skipped back into the kitchen with her ballerina doll firmly in her clutch.

"Dae let's go!" She persisted, grabbing her dad's hand and swinging on it. Draco placed his hand on his sore shoulder from supporting his daughter's weight, and with his other hand he skillfully wrapped Haley into his arms.

"Okay, Pumpkin," he said, the scowl that had admitted on his face turned into a soft smile and he headed to the door.

"This conversation isn't over!" Called Narcissa.

"Is too!"

"Is not-" But Draco had shut the door, cutting his mother off quite rudely. He Disapparated to the alley behind the small studio that he had been to earlier that week. He braced himself as he walked through the door.

Hermione and Lacey were waiting around for Draco to arrive with his daughter. Hermione had made a list of all the questions and comebacks she had for the former Slytherin and felt prepared.

"I'll be back, I have to go pee." Announced Lacey randomly. Hermione stopped her in her tracks however.

"Oh, Lacey, wait." she said, grabbing a bag from behind her chair. "Open it in the bathroom, I think you'll like it." She gave a slight wink and her friend shrugged and took the bag, hurrying to the bathroom.

About a minute passed when the door bell dinged, announcing someone had walked in. _Malfoy, probably. _Hermione thought, and got enough energy to stand up and walk proudly to the door. She tried to go for an unperturbed look so Draco could feel even more intimidated.

When she walked into the foyer she saw the tall blonde with his back halfway towards her. He was glancing at the photos of past recitals along the walls. In the waiting area they had coffee and chai tea. Malfoy was sipping the tea, Hermione could smell it.

"Mr. Malfoy, hello." Hermione said, trying to mask her voice. He turned around a bit slowly and Hermione say that his left hand was occupied with a smaller one. The beholder of the hand was a little girl, as said in the letter, who looked like a pure Malfoy. However she was much sweeter looking, with baby fat all around her face.

Draco had grown out his hair a bit so that there were wisps of curls around the tips of his ears. He no longer kept it greased back, and now he had little stands sticking up slightly on the top. He was wearing a nice suit and Hermione wasn't sure if the shirt beneath it were scrubs or not. Also, she noticed he had a ring on his left ring finger. Who'd want to marry Malfoy?

His jaw line was the same, if not more emphasized and rigid. The war had taken a toll on everyone, including Draco. But he didn't look like the same school boy. His eyes were a bit softer. And those eyes were growing at the sight of Hermione.

Unfortunately, Draco had just taken a sip of his steaming beverage. "Granger?" he said, choking on his chai tea and coughing. He coughed, and some of the tea sputtered onto Hermione's face. She scrunched up her face from disgust and reached for a napkin to wipe her face. He didn't even apologize, the bastard.

Draco's eyes wandered up and down her body. She had definitely turned into a woman over the seven years he had not seen her. She had curves from her chest down to her full behind and her hair (although still bushy) was in a well-kept ponytail today. She had on black yoga pants and a purple jacket that both said Young Dancers of London, and that both hugged her greatly. Her lips were fuller than before, and Draco couldn't help but think it was an age thing. Age was doing Hermione Granger good.

"Malfoy," she said in a cold tone. "I believe you are here to do something?" she asked him after she wiped her face. "Or are you just here to ogle at me?"

Draco coughed and tried to smooth back his hair and seem cool about the fact Granger was there. "What're you doing here?" he asked, still clutching the little girl's hand.

"I'm the ballet teacher here," she smiled and leaned down to the young girl's eye level. "Hello, what your name? I'm your teacher, Miss Hermione." She out-stuck her hand and the girl shook it.

"Her name is Haley." said Draco coldly. He pushed her closer to his leg as if Hermione had dragon pox. She gave a slight frown and stood back up.

"There's a telly over in the other room playing old cartoons if Haley would like to go watch them" Hermione said as warmly as she could with a young one in the room. She pointed to a small room with zebra print carpet. "While we...discuss her enrolment."

Old Draco would never have submitted his daughter to such Muggle ways, but this was New Draco and New Draco wasn't racist against bloods...that much. "You heard her, Bug," he said, patting Haley on the back. "Go watch the telly." Draco knew what a telly was, but never used one, and never wanted to.

Haley ran off without saying another word. For a moment Draco forgot who he was talking to when he turned back to Hermione. "Sorry, she usually not this quiet. Sometimes I can't get Bugga to shut up." he said with a laugh.

"Bugga?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. Draco nodded and gave a smile as his daughter disappeared behind the door.

"One of her many nicknames. I'm not sure how it came about, it just did, and stuck." He turned his attention back to the Muggle-born witch standing it front of him. "I see you've tried to become a Muggle."

"I see you finally pushed a baby out of your giant vagina." Hermione shot back.

"You got the giant part right." Draco said with a smirk that disgusted Hermione. During school she had heard rumours of Malfoy's large...friend, but never really addressed it. Was she ever curious when girls Draco had rumoured to have slept with recently were in the Hospital Wing, due to the fact they couldn't walk have to do with his...friend? Sure she was. But did she desire to shag the daylights out of him? Definitely not.

"You're sad." She rolled her eyes. Malfoy said nothing in response so she moved on to the next topic. "About Haley," she started, remembering the girl's name easily, "Why have you decided to enrol her so late in the summer? Classes start next week and I've nearly just finished filling classes. I'm sure I'll be able to place her somewhere but it will be a tight squeeze. She'll need the required dance wear and there's a down-payment for each month. And don't get me started about costume prices, and in Muggle money too and-"

But Draco stopped Hermione dead in her tracks by waving a large bind of Muggle money in her face. "I got this exchanged." He said with a smile. "It should cover all expenses."

Hermione counted the pounds and frowned. "Um, Malfoy, it seems you have overpaid." She said, too politely for Draco.

"I know that, Granger." He smirked at her. "I wanted to make an arrangement." He shrugged. "You come to my house every day Haley has class and help her get ready. I don't know anything about how to get a four year old ready for dance class and if you won't help me, she'll most likely come to class wearing a flour sack. That's what the extra money is for." He explained.

Hermione didn't know what to say, she of course didn't want to deal with Malfoy more than she had to. He was quite a nuisance. But extra money? She could use that to expand the studio, or start up a new one. "On one condition," said Hermione.

"I'm not sleeping with you." Draco said, putting his hands up as if to defend himself. Hermione's eyes widened and her voice raised.

"I'm not a prostitute!" she exclaimed, quite appalled at his reference. "I merely wanted an apology for everything." she explained.

Draco scoffed and took his extra money back. "I'd rather sleep with you every day of the rest of my life."

"Mustn't tell the wifey that," Hermione said back, getting a bit louder as she almost spat in his face.

Draco gave a half smirk and rolled his eyes, almost looking amused. "Wifey's dead, Granger. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" he asked. "Or did she _forget._"

Hermione's face was turning crimson from anger. "I'll have you know, Malfoy-" But she was interrupted by a shrill shriek coming from the back of the foyer. Out emerged Lacey, holding the bra and pants combo up to her body.

"Oh, Hermione thank you, I love it! Did you pick this out your-" But the _she _stopped when she noticed Draco standing in the foyer. "Ah!" she screamed, her face turning vermilion and ran out of the foyer and back to the bathroom.

"I take it that's your friend." Draco said nonchalantly. Hermione nodded, even more embarrassed that Lacey. "Well, I'm going to go now," he said slowly moving towards the room where his daughter was. He picked her up and made his way to the door. "When's the first day of classes?" he asked, grabbing the registration and informational sheet from Hermione.

"The 1st." she said.

"8th, got it." said Draco, who was now have in and halfway out of the door. "And I can owl you the registration?" he guessed. Hermione nodded and he was out of her hair, the door chiming once again.

Hermione tried to suppress the giggles she had cooped up. Whether Draco knew it or not, she had noticed the tightness in his pants. _No wonder he was in such a hurry to leave._ She thought to herself. _Even when she wasn't trying to, Lacey turned on men._

Draco hurried back to the Alley, and Aapparated back to the cottage. He was in a sweat. He had to get home and back to the comforts of his own house again. He had no idea the effect Hermione could have on him after being abstinent for so long.

**A/N: Sorry it took me all day to update! My grandmother is in the hospital so I was visiting her. Anyhow, please review and tell me if you'd rather have me update more often (every day/every other day) and have them be shorter chapters. Or update when I can (everyday/1-3 times a week) and have them be longer chapters? Please tell me!**


	4. Questions of Science

**A/N: Hi everyone! Since I'm busy with studying for mid-terms and reading 6 novels for classes at once, I will try and put all my extra time (that I don't spend on stage, writing my own novel, singing or dancing in a studio) with this! I hoped you liked the last chapter, and I'll hope you like this one! Again, I own nothing!**

"Daddy!" called Haley from outside of the bathroom. Draco was taking a cold, cold, shower after he had a dream involving a girl with a similar body and bone structure as Granger.

He stretched his fingers out and placed it on the wall next to his other hand. He sighed and let the cool shower run down his back and tingle his skin. His spine shivered and her wiped his face with his left hand, his face still red and sweaty.

"Daddy, I have class!" Haley persisted, knocking on the door. "I need to go!"

Draco sighed and turned the shower off, grabbed his green towel off the rack and dried himself off. "I'm coming Bug," he called through the door and changed into a suit quickly. He ran out of the bathroom and swooped her up.

"Wee!" yelled Haley happily as Draco spun her around into her room. He opened the drawers left and right, trying to find something for her to wear.

"Ballet clothes...ballet clothes..." he hummed, searching and throwing Haley's girly outfits until he found what he assumed was suitable for a dance class.

"Merlin's. Pants." muttered Hermione as Haley Malfoy walked into the studio for her first ballet class on Monday, September 1st. She had the most hilarious outfit on ever. Bright orange leggings, black ballet flats, a large neon green one-sie, a pink trainer bra (over the one-sie) and a pair of frilly yellow shorts. Haley's hair was half-up, half-down, and it looked as if it were hair sprayed to the point of seven hair-washing a day for a month wouldn't be enough to get out all of the spray.

"Hi Miss Hermy!" said Haley as she happily skipped in, completely botching up Hermione's name. She twirled around to the centre of the room, where five other girls were standing and sneering at the poorly dressed girl.

Hermione sighed and picked up the attendance book, walked over to the other girls and sat down in the middle of the floor, and the girls mirrored her movements. "Hello girls!" she smiled. "Welcome to your first day of ballet classes, I am your teacher, Miss _Hermione._" she said slowly, directing this at Haley. "When I call your name, please say 'here.'"

She looked up at the little, spunky girls and read the first name and then looked up to see the girl who matched the name. "Caroline DeVonn." A little girl with curly honey hair and gorgeous green eyes shot her hand into the air.

"HERE!" she called loudly. Hermione cringed and her ears started to ring.

"Okay, then, hello Caroline." She mumbled, marking a 'P' by her name. "Evangeline Heffley." This time it was a very petite ginger girl who raised her hand meekly. She didn't talk, she didn't move other than putting her hand back down and Hermione related with her. She was that shy when she first began lessons. "Clara Lyon."

"That's ME!" said a girl, who stood up immediately. She did a little arabesque and a spin that was quite off-balance and bad, and then put her hands on her hips. "My mum says I will play Clara in the Nutcracker! I can because I'm five and good! And my name is Clara!" She gave a large grin and brown fringe bounced as she plopped back down.

"Well, we don't do Nutcracker for two years, Clara, but I'll consider you." Hermione said with a fake smile. It seemed to please the girl though, and she seemed satisfied. "Haley Malfoy." Haley didn't stand, nor did she talk, but instead, she lifted her head high, in a Malfoy manner and raised her hand like a lady. "Quite like your father, aren't you?" Hermione mumbled.

The two other girls were Kate Preston and Karen Preston, identical twins, with their matching pink leotards and Dutch braids, and down to each freckle they were similar. And as class started, Hermione saw that they even _danced _the same.

Halfway through the hour-long class, Hermione noticed that five of the girls seemed to be huddled on one barre, while Haley was alone on another. As the degagé combination ended, the five girls huddled and giggled while looking in the direction of Haley.

Hermione, being a neutral teacher, went over to ask the girls what they were talking about. Clara was the first to speak up. "The girl is wearing funny clothes!" she exclaimed, pointed to Haley. The rest of the group started laughing, even polite and quiet Evangeline.

Haley, who was practising facing the barre, didn't noticed the laughing stock behind her. Hermione sighed and hushed the giggling girls. She walked slowly over to Haley, who had stopped her practising and instead was staring out of the window at the passing cars. "Haley?" Hermione asked getting the girl's attention. "Come with me." She took her hand and led her out the door.

"Lizzie!" Hermione exclaimed, catching one of the older ballet dancers mid-run through the lobby. The tall light brunette turned to her instructor.

"Yes, Hermione?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Can you go and take over my Pre-Ballet class?" she pleaded. "I have to do something real quick." She nodded in the direction of Haley who gave a polite smile.

Lizzie looked appalled at the small girl's wardrobe and nodded straight away. "Oh, of course Hermione." Then she turned and hurried through the door into Studio 2.

The pair took an immediate left into the Studio's mini dance wear shop. Among the racks were leotards in colours of baby pink, hunter green, light blue, burgundy, and of course, the classic black. The Pre-Ballet class wore the pick leotards, so Hermione grabbed a small one off the rack that seemed about Haley's size. She also grabbed small, long-legged pink tights. Haley seemed to have inherited Malfoy's mile long legs. Hermione snatched a pair of already sown ballet slippers and then, for good measure, a solid matching pink skirt.

Hermione took Haley into her office, knowing that the privacy would probably be better. As soon as she closed the door, she dropped down and slipped the trainer bra over Haley's mess of a head of hair.

"What are you doing?" asked the girl, eyeing Hermione who was slipping off her shorts and undoing her one-sie.

Hermione grunted and slid the garment off of the four year old. "I'm changing you into ballet appropriate clothes. Your father can't dress you." she rolled her eyes. Haley's eyes lit up at the mention of her daddy.

"My Dae!" she squealed. "He's nice. I yove him." Yove? Hermione was puzzled for a moment until she realized the 'Dae' and 'yove' were the girl's jargon for 'Daddy' and 'love'.

"Well, that makes one of us." Hermione muttered under her breath. She had Haley shimmy out of the eye-burning orange leggings and peeled off the shoes. "Can you take off your underwear?" she asked Haley.

Instinctively the young Malfoy grabbed the front of her and shook her head. "No, no." she shook her head quickly.

Hermione gave a sigh. "I didn't want to do this manually Haley, but if you won't do this..." Hermione reached for the elastic of her briefs, but Haley took a huge leap backwards, her eyes suddenly flooding with tears.

"No! NO!" she screamed, twisting her hands onto the front of her last remaining piece of clothing. Hermione was taken aback at her persistent demeanour. Her eyebrows raised, and she decided not to force it any more, the girl was already sobbing.

Hermione outstretched her hand for the crying girl to take and come forward to her, but she just moved back more, sobbing into her hands. It would have been a heartbreakingly cute image if Haley's hair hadn't been sticking up everywhere.

Unsure what to do, Hermione sat back on her ankles and glanced in the mirror. Her reflection earlier had been happy and eager to start up classes. Now her hair that had been in a perfect braid was now falling out in several placing and framing her tired-looking face. For the first day of classes she had decided to wear a pink leotard and a black sweater over it. She had on pink tights and a see-through coal black skirt with light pink warm-ups. She was wearing the classic nude heeled teacher shoes. Other than her outward appearance on her face, she might've looked attractive.

From behind her head she saw just grazing over her line of vision was a small bowl of sweets. There were caramels, candy corn (even though it was September), chocolate, and Hermione's favourite of the ones there; licorice bits.

She whipped her head around, the silence in her mind breaking and being replaced by Haley's small snivels. She snatched the bowl (which was shaped like a pair of pointe shoes) and held it out to the girl. "Haley, do you want some sweets?" she asked curious, moving closer and closer.

Haley glanced up, her face red and stained with tears. She lifted a hand and dug her small, pudgy fingers in, most likely a trait she inherited from her mother, whomever she may be, and grabbed a piece of licorice. She quickly brought the candy to her lips, chewed and swallowed. Immediately Haley's face lightened and she moved closer to Hermione, who reached for the leotard.

In no time Haley was fully dressed and her face went back to it's pale self. "Well, there's nothing I can do about your hair..." Hermione muttered to herself while Haley twirled in the mirror.

"Thank you, Miss Hermy." she said, giving a pure smile which showed she completely forgot about the crying incident just minutes before. Hermione flashed back and equally happy smile.

"My pleasure, now come on." They made their way back to the Studio and Lizzie left, after Hermione slipped her a few pounds for her work. The rest of the class time went uneventful, and Haley actually striked up a conversation one of the Preston twins and Evangeline. The shy ginger only nodded or said one-word answers, but anything was good, especially on the first day.

After the girls bowed to Hermione for the day, she had them all stand in a line and put their hands on their heads. "What are we doing?" asked Caroline quite loudly. Hermione cringed again and grabbed a stamp and ink from the drawer.

"It's a surprise," she said, putting the stamp into red ink. She placed it on Caroline's hand and it showed red pointe shoes. The girls 'oo-ed' and 'ahh-ed' at the marvellous (and cheap) temporary tattoo on the backs of their hands. The rest of the students left, and Haley was the last to get a stamp.

"I'm going to use a special one for you," smiled Hermione. Haley gave a giggle and jumped up and down. The stamp was identical to the first, except for the fact it sparkled, and the moment she put it on Haley's hand...

"It moves!" she exclaimed, looking at her hand. The shoes went from a fifth position, to a sous sous and down again. Haley moved her hand back and forth as if the ink would moved to and fro, but of course didn't.

Hermione let Haley out of the studio and finished writing a few notes to herself in the studio before leaving. She saw Malfoy approaching the building door, and as soon as he strolled in the door, she made her way up to him.

"I need to speak with you," she growled through her teeth. "Please come to my office." she suddenly said in a nicer tone when Haley appeared behind Draco's legs.

Draco looked down at Haley and told her to go back into the telly room, not before shooting Hermione a scowl that clearly said he wanted her message to be quick and to the point.

Hermione led Draco to her empty shared office and when he was fully in, she locked the door and muttered, "_Muffliato_," around the area. Draco raised his eyebrows at the sudden progression.

"What's this about?" he asked, clearly unsure on why he was called into Granger's office. The ballet teacher rolled her eyes and grabbed a heap of brightly coloured clothes from the ground. She tossed them violently into his arms with such force it almost moved Draco back a bit.

"What in the hell is this?" she asked loudly, not even trying to hide her anger. "I come to teach your daughter how to dance and she comes wearing what looks like a rainbow dyed each of her clothes a different bright colour! And her hair looks like Frankenstien's wife." Draco looked confused. "Muggle literature." She explained while pacing back and forth in the small, square office while giving Draco deathly looks.

"I told you I don't know the first thing about helping a girl get ready for dance class, that's why I asked for your help!" he argued back quite loudly. "And you said no, and _still_ you helped her."

Hermione stopped pacing and looked daggers into Draco's silver eyes. "I helped your daughter because she was being laughed at and teased by her peers! I was caring for your daughter, who by the way, is adorable and a joy to have in class, the exact opposite of you!" she yelled.

Draco moved up so he was almost nose to nose with Hermione, which could never happen, considering he was quite a few inches taller than her. "I've changed, Granger, whether you see it yet or not! You have no right to get upset with me over something I warned you about ahead of time! I'm bad at matching outfits, why do you think I wear black or suits all of the time? It already matches! I asked for your help and even said I'd _pay _you." He yelled back, grateful she had set the Muffling Spell.

"And I said I'd work for you when you apologize!" she screamed back.

"Well, that won't happen soon, so unless you want my daughter to come back to class next week wearing more non-matching Muggle clothes, then I would consider taking up on my offer!" he said with brute force. He was no longer yelling, just merely loudly negotiating.

Hermione thought about this a moment. She again weighed the money to having to deal with Malfoy once a week. But that was it, only once a week, nothing more nor less, unless of course Haley got sick. It wouldn't be so bad...And she never liked seeing someone get bullied, never since she was.

"I accept." she said, in almost a whisper.

Draco's eyes grew. He was obviously shocked at her change of heart so quickly. "What was that Granger? I didn't hear you," he lied, already taking out the pocketed Muggle money. Sticking out of the bind was the address to his cottage since he assumed Granger didn't know how to get there.

"I'm not saying it again, just give me the money and get your bloody arse out of here." she shot back a bit rougher now.

Draco gave a light chuckle and tossed the notes at Granger. "My pleasure. And there's extra for the clothes." He said, turning to the door. Just as he was almost out of the door, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Malfoy?" she asked, her voice a bit hoarse from all of the yelling that had taken place.

"What now?" he asked, rolling his eyes. He leaned against the door frame, using his elbow as a balancing point. Hermione noticed again that he was wearing mint green scrubs under his otherwise nice suit.

Hermione contemplated on asking Draco but decided she would so she wouldn't spend all night fretting about it. "Would you have any idea why when I was changing Haley, she wouldn't take off her underwear? It's quite more comfortable to dance without them." Hermione almost hit herself in the face for the last part, basically telling Malfoy she wasn't wearing any pants on underneath.

Draco's eyes went from wide to wider as she talked. He gave a slight smirk when she mentioned being comfortable without underwear and he almost laughed then and there. But then his face fell when he realized he had to answer the question. "No comment."

Hermione let Draco run this time, happy that he was out of her hair. She saw through the windows of the biggest studio, Malfoy leaving with Haley wrapped in his arms. He was whispering to her and her face looked red again just like when she cried. Hermione thought she saw tears running down her face.

Hermione Granger let those thoughts fall away. Thoughts of why Draco wanted her in his house, why Haley got so upset, and why she couldn't get the image of a sadden Malfoy when he wouldn't answer her questions.

She pushed any straggling thoughts away and prepared for her next class, not even noticing the stray ballet flat in the corner that used to belong to Haley Malfoy.

******A/N: Okay, I'm glad I got to post this today! I am so busy during the week as I said before, so I will try to post when I can, please don't get mad at me when I don't! :(** ******Please Review, Favourite or Follow, it really means the world to me :)** ******P.S. This chapter title comes from the song "The Scientist" by Coldplay. I really love Coldplay, and this song :) ** ******Sorry I posted this twice, I had some problems with it!**


	5. I Need Somewhere to Begin

**A/N: This will be quick and to the point.**

**This chapter is from the song, "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane :) **

**I don't own Harry Potter, the wonderful J.K. Rowling does.**

"Come in," called Lacey from inside her flat. Hermione barged through the door, her face was a deep shade of crimson. She was shaking and almost broke one of Lacey's nice antique dining chairs when she threw her bag down. "Someone's PMSing..." She muttered as Hermione walked briskly to the sitting room and plopped down.

The two girls had planned a little celebratory/girls' night to talk about whatever they wanted to. Early Hermione had confronted Lacey about Isaac, but again, she wouldn't truly share her real feelings.

Hermione whipped her head around. "You know that has _nothing_ to do with why I'm upset." Lacey raised her eyebrows. "Okay, maybe a little." Her friend rolled her eyes and sat down beside her, placing a comforting hand on hers, before Hermione moved it away.

"So what happened?" Lacey asked, laying her head on the edge of the sofa.

"Malfoy happened." Hermione said, shooting a dirty look to her for no reason in particular. Lacey looked at her for a moment and then looked at the ceiling.

"Ain't that vague..." she muttered. Hermione coughed and Lacey corrected herself. "I mean, _isn't _that vague." Hermione didn't say anything, but gave her friend a thumbs up. "Can you tell me a bit more?"

Hermione sighed and let her face fall. "He's just...a bloody idiot! He's inconsiderate, intolerable, selfish, smug!"

"You do realize you said those insults alphabetically?" Lacey added, but Hermione just ignored her and continued her rant.

"He thinks he can just-just buy my help! Like I'm no more than a maid! He's a git, horrible, unbearable, daft, disgusting-" Hermione listed but Lacey cut her off.

"Attractive, sexy, wild, probably good in bed." she said, and Hermione's mouth opened twice it's normal size. "He'd probably fit in your mouth, maybe you'd have to open it a bit bigger..." Lacey wondered. "Just admit it Herman, you want to bang him! Admit it!"

Hermione threw a $2 cheap pillow at Lacey's face. "That's sick! No! Never! He's absolutely galling! He wants me to dress his daughter, Haley, and help her get ready for every class. And he's paying me!" She yelled aggravated. She groaned and threw a pillow onto her own face.

Lacey raised an eyebrow. "How is that horrible? You're getting paid to dress a four year old. That doesn't sound so bad." Hermione took the pillow off her face and looked as if she was going to vomit.

"Not so bad? It's Malfoy! He wants me to go to his house and dress her! I'll have to see more of him than I wish to!" Lacey gave a snicker and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that!"

But Lacey had tumbled over in laughter, snorting in between each laugh.

Lacey had a distinctive snorting laugh. When Hermione first met her, Lacey was quite shy and didn't laugh or giggle. She was simply...there. But one day Hermione invited her out for a lunch during a break at the studio. Lacey didn't object. They found themselves sitting in a Muggle restaurant called 'The Wooden Spoon' eating pancakes and laughing. Lacey accidentally let out a snort mixed with a giggle, which made both of them laugh even harder. That happened just around the time the two became friends. And using lack of a better cliche, they've been best friends ever since.

Soon Hermione found herself laughing as well, until both girls were on the floor, giggling like two teenage girls fawning over a famous guy. After composing themselves, they had forgotten what was so funny and why Hermione had been distressed. Sometimes friendship can do that.

They spent the rest of the night watching old Disney Muggle films, like _Lady and the Tramp _or _The Aristoc_ats. Lacey was a Muggle-born as well, however, unlike Hermione, she didn't finish top in her year. Quite the opposite really.

"And you really lost half of your hair because of splinching?" Hermione guffawed after the films were over. Lacey nodded her head and took another bite of her vanilla ice cream.

"I did, and it was so embarrassing! I lost the left side of my beautiful hair! And the boy I liked was there and he laughed! It was horrible!" Lacey said sadly, even though she was having a hard time to keep down her chuckles. "I had to be taken to the hospital wing because some of my skin was splinched too! The next day I had all of my hair back, but everyone knew the story and someone took a picture of me!"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the thought of her amazingly gorgeous friend with a half-splinched head. "Do you have a copy?" she asked eagerly.

Lacey's eyes grew wide and she shook her head. "No! I destroyed every picture!" she exclaimed. "Now, do you have any interesting stories for _me_?" she asked, poking Hermione in the stomach.

Hermione gave a sigh, "Well, there was this one time when-" But she was cut off by the loud knock on the door. Lacey gave a disappointed look and popped off the sofa.

While she was doing that, Hermione decided to do a bit of choreography she had needed to make for her Company ballet dance. She had been procrastinating and seeing how she still needed to make three more dances for the class solely in three months, she thought it'd be good to work on it now.

She just got to the pas da valse, fouetté, to sous sous when she paused. In the distance she heard angry whispering and turned the corner to see Lacey stuffing her finger in Ron Weasley's face. "Now get out of here now until I kick your dick in so much you'll beg for me to finish you off."

Ron scoffed and pushed his hand on her head when he saw Hermione. "I want you back!" he called, his voice a little slurred.

"You're drunk!" Hermione and Lacey called at the same time. "I said leave!" Lacey said, pushing him out of the door again. "Hermione, Floo Ginny and tell her that her bastard of a brother is drunk and won't leave my apartment!"

"Gladly," she said with a disgusted look as Ron made kissy faces. Hermione hurried to the corner Floo and stuck her head in the ashes after saying, "The Burrow." Ginny was still staying at the Burrow until her and Harry got married. He popped the question six months ago, and now they were eager for their wedding day to arrive. Luckily it was in two months and even luckier for the engaged since they were staying abstinent for the last month.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed when she saw her old friend's head in the flames. She had been walking by with Levitating dishes. Molly was teaching her how to be a house-wife, and the fallen dishes from surprise were not going to go down well with Mrs. Weasley. "What's going on?" she asked, falling to her knees.

"Your git of a brother is at Lacey's flat, drunk as a skunk." Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to point to the direction, but realized that Ginny could only see her head. "He's screaming that he wants me back." Ron often got drunk during and after their failed relationship. He seemed to need alcohol just to wake up in the morning. And as Hermione knew because of their breakup, he often made ludicrous statements when he was full-fledged drunk.

"I'll be over in a jiffy," Ginny promised quickly and Apparated in front of Hermione's eyes.

When she pulled out of the fire, Ginny was already at the door, pulling a drunken Ron out of the door. "C'mon Ron, you need to leave, NOW!" she practically yelled, pulling her older brother in a vice grip. Ron's face scrunched from pain and he tried to squirm away.

"Bloody hell, Ginny!" he yelled, his voice getting high pitched. "Bug off!" Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand.

"I didn't want to do this, but _Stupefy._" she said nonchalantly. Ron immediately fell to the floor and she didn't even bother picking him up. "I greatly apologize for his... behaviour." Ginny said, frowning down at her brother. "He needs to see someone about his...whatever he has." She gave a laugh. "Again, I apologize."

"No need Ginny," Hermione smiled, glad that Ron was knocked out. "It's not your fault you have an ill-mannered brother." Ginny gave a small tug of a smile on her lips.

"Oh but it is," she joked, "I could've gotten rid of him a long time ago."

Hermione and Lacey ended their girls' night early after the incident. Neither of them felt in the mood to stay up and talk after that, as if Ron coming in was a bad omen. Hermione, for a change, walked to her flat. She didn't like Apparating all of the time, it could really give even the brightest witch a headache.

She was so strained from the days activities that she hardly remembered stepping into the shower. It was almost as if she was a programmed robot, put into the rut of day by day normalities. She needed spice in her life, something to shake her up, get her moving.

Hermione needed to just be, for lack of a better term, young and wild and free.

The week sped by quickly, and before Hermione knew it, it was the day before Haley's next class. She had known it was coming and had bought extra bobby pins and hair ties, but as she stood outside of the cottage that Malfoy was resident in, she felt a bit of regret of going through with this. She had to admit, being a single father must've been hard for him, but to get help from a Mudblood? It seemed almost unheard of from a Pureblood.

Subconsciously, Hermione touched the permanent scar that shed the awful name for a Muggleborn. The pain never seemed to fully cease, and on some bad days, she could sometimes feel its full wrath. It was the worst physical pain she had ever felt.

Hermione finally plucked up the courage and knocked on the dark green door. Green, of course. There was no noise at first, but then she could make out the faint sound of Malfoy's voice. So it surprised her when young Haley opened the door.

"Hi Miss Hermne!" she said, completely missing Hermione's name again. At least she was getting closer. The young girl was still in pink pyjamas, her hair was up in a messy bun that Hermione could only believe was the doings of Malfoy, and was wearing white kitten slippers.

"Good afternoon Haley," Hermione said with an equally wide (but thankfully, less crooked) smile. "Did your...father...tell you why I'm here?" she asked, shuddering at the word father. Any noun or pronoun that portrayed to Draco Malfoy was now just as bad as his name.

Haley nodded over-enthusiastically. "My Dae said you will dress me for class like before!" she smiled and jumped up and down in excitement for class. Hermione nodded and glanced over at the sofa. Lying on it was the dance wear she had put Haley in last week, and so she reached for it, and when the clothes were nicely clenched in her left fist, she started to unbuttoned the little girl's shirt.

"How are you today, Haley?" she asked the girl as she went down to her elastic trousers. The girl seemed to stiffen at the touch but didn't cry like before. She gave a big smile and clasped her hands.

"Great!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. "Very great!" Soon the little girl was again, left in her underwear and in no time, she was fully dressed and Hermione was placing the last bobby pins in her hair. The only thing that seemed to be missing were her slippers.

"Do you know where your ballet slippers are, Haley?" Hermione asked, eye to eye with the girl. She nodded, her small wisps of hair that framed her face bounced. "Can you go get them?" Another nod from the small girl, and she darted away.

Hermione stood up as the bouncing blonde zoomed out of the room and towards wherever her shoes were. She clapped her hands and looked around the sitting room. It was a bit dusty and had a few blankets thrown around. Hermione reached for her wand and aimed for the centre of the dust. "_Scorgi-"_

"What are you doing?" Came a calm voice from behind Hermione. She turned and saw the damp face of Malfoy. His wet hair was sticking to his forehead and lines of water still dribbled down his jaw. His chest (which so happened to be quite close to Hermione's face) was bare and partially shaved, besides the small blonde hairs of his treasure trail that lead down to his unmentionable area, covered by a cream-coloured towel.

"Ah!" she screamed and jumped back with so much force that she fell over the sofa. She just about hit her head on the coffee table.

"Granger, are you okay?" Asked Draco as he went around the sofa to inspect her. He looked at her face upside down and smirked. "This is not the first time my devilishly good looks has gotten a girl to bend over backwards for me."

"You're disgusting," she scoffed, and ever so gracefully, she used her legs strength to swing herself over the top of the sofa and back onto solid ground. Draco's face never left a smug smirk the entire time.

"Some take that as a compliment," he said simply, rubbing his hand down his toned body. He had beefed up a bit after the war. He was still a skinny git, but now he was a skinny, muscular git.

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, stomping over to the other side of the room, waiting for the mediator, Haley, to walk in the room. However she didn't, and so Malfoy and her just kept eye contact in a staring contest.

After a few minutes Draco's eyes were burning, so he shook his head to "move his hair out of his face" but while he was doing that, he secretly blinked.

"You blinked!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing from the opposite side of the room. She left her hand drop, and said it again.

"Did not!" Draco yelled back.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did-Oh this is just childish." Hermione sighed. "I'm not going to fight with you over a silly children's game used to pass time!" Her intention of coming to Malfoy's house was to dress Haley and avoid her father all together. Not dress Haley _and_ get in a fight with her half-naked father. Especially since it was Malfoy.

Draco ran his hand through his hair, as if he wanted to say something, but before he could, the pitter-patter of little steps running meant Haley was coming in the room. Draco hopped back into the bathroom so his young daughter didn't see him. Sure enough, the young Malfoy galloped into the room with her two small slippers.

So to not dirty them, Hermione held them in her hands and Haley put on some small boots. They were just about to leave when Haley tilted her head back and yelled, "Daddy I'm leaving! Kiss bye!"

In literally no time flat, Draco opened the bathroom door and appeared, fully clothed, with his arms out wide to Haley. She giggled and threw herself into her father's arms. Draco swooped and picked her up off the ground, twirled her around while giving her multiple kisses on her cheeks and forehead. "Bye Bug," he said once he set her down. "I'll miss you."

Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a glimmer of tears in Malfoy's eyes as he said good-bye to his daughter. She was probably seeing things.

They made it to the Academy on time, and Haley slipped on her shoes. Class was relatively normal, and most of the time Hermione spent it next to the girls on the barre, showing them the proper way to tendu or plié. A few of the girls were catching on quickly, like Clara and Evangeline. The Preston twins were a bit of trouble and Caroline could never get ronde jambes correctly. Haley however, was doing average for a girl her age. They still didn't leave the barre, but they needed to build up strength first.

Draco had arrived at the studio a good 15 minutes before the class was even over. He enjoyed watching his daughter dance at the studio, he did. However he had no explanation why his eyes seemed to always drift to Granger...

And why she seemed to look back over at him.

**A/N: Oh my word, this took forever for me to write! I so apologize! There will be another chapter at least before the weekend is over!**

**Also, please Review and tell me what you've liked so far in the story! And maybe some of your own predictions. Just Review, it makes me so happy xD. Also Favourite and Follow me and/or the story. It means a lot to me.**


	6. I Got Nothing

**A/N: The chapter title is from the song, "Nothing" by the Script!**

**I own nothing!**

**Enjoy! :) **

Draco glanced in the pot of soup currently bubbling on the Muggle stove. He grabbed a wooden spoon from inside one of the drawers and slowly began to stir it. The bubbles seemed to cease and the delicious aroma of cream of cheese wafted through the small kitchen. Draco always made lunch on the weekends, after learning how to cook when he went to Muggle university.

You heard right. After the war, Draco went to study at a small Muggle university before he got married. He put aside his differences about Muggles and learned with them. He lived with two comedians and one taught him how to cook. From then on, Draco believed himself to be a master chef.

Which he was.

Draco took out his wand (which had earlier been resting in his back pocket) and waved it at the pantry under the stairs. "_Accio Crackers!_" he whispered, and out shot the salty crispy treats. They were a cheap brand, but he didn't complain, Haley loved having them with her soup, and soup was her favourite food. Draco had asked many times if it changed to something more child-like, like sweets or biscuits, but Haley always said soup. Draco actually felt proud that his daughter loved to eat healthy.

He let the crackers Levitate for a few moments while he turned the burner down and poured the steaming soup into a small, ivory bowl. The crackers dropped to the counter, and Draco took out three unbroken pieces and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger onto the soup. He had to do it a certain way, Haley was picky. Then, a pinch of basil was placed on top of the crackers to finish the delectable lunch.

Draco placed the soup upon a matching place-mat. Next to the bowl he placed a spoon on each side. For the past year he'd been doing this, so Haley can be classified as either left or right handed. So far she seemed to be developing the habits of a left-hander, but Draco didn't want to pressure her by leaving one spoon.

"Bug!" he called out to the general area of the cottage. The kitchen was connected without a door to the sitting room and stairs. A door led out to the back deck. In a corner of the floor was a sleigh bed, connected to a bathroom with two doors. One to the bedroom and the other to the kitchen. The kitchen was also connected by a door which led to a small walk-in area in the front of the front door. Connected to that area was the boiler and laundry room. Haley must've been upstairs, so Draco shuffled to the bottom of the stairs and called her name again.

The second floor was made up of a small corridor and four doors. The first on the right was Draco's room, a master bedroom. In there were four windows that led out to a small roof. Often during the summers he'd sunbathe on the roof with Haley. The master bedroom had its own half-bath and a small closet.

The first door on the right led into Haley's room. She had two beds in her room, twin beds, that Draco and his wife had put in there for any more children. However, they needn't worry about that now. The room only had two side-desks, a large dresser and a closet filled to the top with Haley's miscellaneous clothes and toys.

The second door on the right was a guest bedroom/study for Draco. Attached to it was the smallest library imaginable, basically just a nook stuffed to the brim with books. Once, Draco had wanted to get a small children's book (_The Tales Of Beedle the Bard_) out of it, and ended up ripping off what little nail he had from getting his hand stuck between two tight books. He hadn't walked in there since.

The last door was straight at the back of the hall, on neither side. It was technically Draco's bathroom. It had a toilet, a sink and a shower, and since Haley normally took her baths in the bathroom on the first floor, Draco automatically named the extra bathroom his.

It was a small cottage, easy to call someone, just like Draco had done twice. He stood by the stove, scooping out his own bowl of the soup, when he heard thumps coming from above. Then over the pantry; Haley had obviously heard her name being called.

Her small feet hurried a bit too quickly down the carpeted staircase, and Draco heard the unmistakeably horrible sound of a fall. "Ow!" came Haley's small voice, but it was partially muffled from the tears streaming down her face.

Draco slammed his bowl down so forcibly that the soup swayed slightly, the bowl spilling some of its occupants over the side. He raced to the bottom of the stairs and turned, seeing Haley with a scraped and bleeding knee, with tears streaming down her face. His heart sunk to see her in pain, he hated it, and he almost cried himself.

The loving father picked up his daughter, and kissed her on the cheek. He carried her into the kitchen quite frantically and set her on the marble counter. It was too small of an injury to use any blood replenishing spell, so he just hurried to the medicine cabinet, to retrieve a plaster and Vaseline. Draco took out a large round plaster, just big enough for the affected area, on Haley's kneecap.

She continued to cry buckets of tears, as her knee continued to bleed. "Please stop crying, Bug," Draco begged, shaking as he ripped off the adhesive covering of the bandage. He unscrewed the blue top of the Vaseline container, whipped out his pinky finger and dipped it in, quickly spreading the sticky solid across the white cotton of the plaster.

Draco placed the cover onto Haley's kneecap, and kissed her cheek again. It was damp and salty, her tears were on his almost non-existent lips. "Bug, please calm down," he said, his own eyes beginning to water. He placed his thumbs under her eyes and wiped the falling tears. He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her tiny frame.

Haley finished crying into her father's shoulder, while Draco tried to keep his composure while rubbing her back. His daughter hated pain, physical pain, emotional pain, mental pain. Draco was the same way. He'd never admit it, but he was quite the cry-baby when he was extremely upset. Soon the loud sobs were reduced to gentle sniffles.

Draco kissed her forehead again and then moved down and kissed her knee. "Dae made owie better." Haley said, smiling widely.

He nodded and smiled back, "Daddy _did _make owie better." he repeated and picked his light daughter up from the waist, and dropped her back to the ground. "Now, are you ready for your soup?" Haley nodded and jumped up and down, her sock feet pointed as she jumped.

"Soup soup soup soup!" she exclaimed loudly, and bounced all the way into her seat. Draco gave a chuckle and admired his daughter's happiness. He was always jealous of her. When he was younger, he would sit at the dining table wearing a full suit and tie, his hair gelled back, his back straight and chest puffed out, eating properly and chewing exactly ten times, all at the age of four. However, Haley was in her pyjamas, her hair was uncombed and messy, she had her legs on the chair and crossed with the soup bowl in her lap, spilling bits of soup on her shirt and face.

She seemed to be fairing better since her fall, and didn't seem to even want to bring it up. So Draco didn't. He didn't want Haley to get upset again, his heart was still recuperating.

"How are your dance classes going?" Draco asked, scrapping the bits of his soup left.

"Fun!" she said, slurping up some more cream of cheese. A bit of cheese got stuck on her chin and she took her tongue and licked it up.

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Is your teacher nice? Does she treat you good?" If Granger wasn't so much as a Saint to Haley he would get her for it.

"Miss Herm is very very very VERY nice!" Haley said, nodding at every 'very.' "She is a good teach and I like her lots!" Draco breathed and long sigh of relief. As long as Haley was happy, Draco didn't mind entirely that Granger was her teacher. Of course he didn't like her coming to his sacred place that was his home, but he knew if he wanted Haley to be dressed correctly, ready correctly, he was going to need Granger's help.

"I'm glad, Bug." he said, reaching over the short table and grabbing her tiny palm. "You are a good dancer, Haley." he smiled and it wasn't lying, it was the truth. It might be parents' blindness, but he thought she was the best.

"Thanks Dae. I na noo." She smiled, slurping the rest of her soup. 'Na noo' was another way that Haley said 'I love you.' It was something she developed at a young age due to a speech impediment. Draco however, didn't correct her, he thought it was too cute.

"Na noo too, Buddy," he smiled and stood, taking the two empty bowls to rinse and wash. Haley stayed sitting in the chair, swinging her legs and watching them. Draco looked down and watched her, smiling and being in awe of her.

Suddenly the Floo in the corner roared t life and out popped a familiar face. "Draco! You wonderful bastard!" Immediately Draco turned around and put his soapy hands over Haley's small ears.

"Blaise!" Draco exclaimed as his old friend walked into the kitchen. "Mixed company!" Blaise Zabini was a dear old friend of Draco's and they had grown up together. He now worked at the Ministry of Magic in the Wizengamot as a Scribe. He too, had seen his old ways as a prejudice Pureblood, after many months of persuasion on Draco's part.

"Sorry mate," he apologized, patting Draco on the back. Haley looked up and practically jumped out of her seat. She hugged Blaise's legs happily.

"Uncle Blaise!" she smiled, looking up at him. Blaise was Haley's godfather, and she loved him just as if he were her father, too.

"Hey Hales!" Blaise smiled, picking up his goddaughter and kissing her on he forehead. "How are you?" he asked, resting her in his arms.

Haley looked up and touched Blaise's cheek. "Very very very good!" she smiled, again, nodding at every 'very.' Her godfather looked down at her knee and touched the bandage on her kneecap.

"What happened her, Hales?" he asked curiously. "Did Daddy hurt you?" he asked, pointing accusingly towards his old friend. Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed his daughter back into his own arms.

He rested her on his waist and Haley wrapped her legs around her. Draco pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "No!" he exclaimed, partially offended, partially laughing. "She fell down the stairs and scrapped her knee."

Blaise smiled and put his hand into his pocket. Draco could see the light glow of a Transfiguration and out his friend pulled a small kitten doll. "Will this make your knee better?" he asked, holding out the puffy, plushy, white doll.

Haley nodded and grabbed the small kitten doll, hugging it to her chest. "Why don't you go to your room, Bug?" Draco suggested.

"Okay, Dae! Bye Uncle Blaise!" she dropped down to the ground and shimmied off to her room. She grabbed the handrails of the stairs and put her feet together, hopping up the stairs one by one. _Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! _The sound wavered out and Draco turned back to the dishes.

"So..what're you doing here?" he asked curiously while rinsing one of the bowls. Blaise began to open his mouth when Draco added, "And don't say to visit Haley, I know that's a lie." At that, Zabini closed his mouth and let his arms drop.

"How did you know?" he asked in awe.

"We've been friends since day one, remember?" Draco laughed. Blaise nodded and leaned against the counter and watched his old friend dry dishes. "So, what's the real reason you're here?"

Blaise smirked eagerly and pulled out a flyer. It was bright red with blue bold letters, but there was hardly any words. There were multiple pictures that weren't moving, but they didn't need to. There were at least 10 different strippers, girls wearing g-strings and push-up bras, all leaning over and frozen in a pole-dance.

Draco looked over at Blaise, who was smiling widely and staring at one Asian stripper, nodding widely. He raised an eyebrow and Blasie rolled his eyes. "Just read it." he said, shoving the advertisement in Draco's hands.

In giant letters on the front read, **London Annual Stripper Convention.** Draco glanced at the other text and read it, trying to keep an open mind. **Are you tired of seeing the same pair of breasts? ****Sick of the boring dances? Are you in a rut with your favourite strip club? Come to the London Annual Stripper Convention! Strippers and hookers from around the world are ready to please you! There are 20 private rooms for one-on-one dances and an all-you-can-eat buffet! All for one weekend! Read the back for more information!**

"Is this just the dog's bollocks?" Blaise asked, grabbing the paper back and locking his eyes on a large pair of breasts. Draco rolled his eyes and continued to wash the dishes.

He wasn't very impressed the way Blaise, the sex maniac, was. "Not really, Zabini. You can go, I'm fine here."

Blaise gave an offended look and waved the flyer under Draco nose. "Are you kidding me? International strippers, private rooms, buffet! You read it, you saw the pictures! What in the hell isn't convincing you?" he asked frantically.

Draco rolled his eyes again, and dropped the dishes, looking at his aroused friend in the eye seriously. "I'm a father, Blaise! I can't just go off willy nilly to look at some foreign girls flap around practically naked! Maybe if you asked me seven years ago I would've gone, but I can't go now, I have a responsibility, Haley! Find someone else to go, I have to take care of a human being!"

The room got quiet and Blaise broke the silence but clutching his heart. "Oh, dear me! I'm Draco Malfoy," he started, about to make fun of Draco. _Oy vey. _Malfoy thought. "I can't take a day off for 40 years, I'm a mum," Blaise began to throw the plates around and pretend to wash them badly. "I have a huge vagina," That comment brought Draco back to the insult Granger had thrown at him the day he went to sign Haley up at the dance studio. He wanted to chuckle at the similarity. Blaise turned back to his normal voice and screamed over at Draco, "And I need to GROW A PAIR! I mean, c'mon Malfoy, you're turning into a girl! Have an adventure!"

Draco rubbed his head, getting suds in his bright blonde hair. "Blaise, even if I wanted to go, I still have no one to take care of Haley!" he explained, finished to clean the dishes.

"What about your mum?" Blaise suggested, clapping his hands, "She'd take care of Hales."

Draco sighed and shook his head. "She has to take care of my father during the day. I can only ask her to take care of Haley during the odd nights I have to be at St. Mungo's. Besides, if she found out where I was, at a Muggle Stripper Convention, she'd be livid."

Blaise sighed and raked his fingers through his Italian hair. "You need to get laid, mate. I'm doing this for you."

Draco nodded and put a hand on Blaise's shoulder. "I thank you, but there's no one that can watch over Haley while-" but he stopped mid-sentence. He shook his head, no it was stupid.

"What is it?" Blaise asked as Draco started to zone out at the wall. He shook his head, and closed his eyes.

"I though of a person," he sighed, shaking his head again. "It's the only other person that I see besides my patients." Blaise looked absolutely ecstatic.

"Who is it? It can't be that bad! C'mon mate, just think, birds in hardly any clothing, dancing around for our aroused pleasure!" he exclaimed, almost as if trying to sell an amazing product to a sceptical buyer.

It took Draco a few seconds to think about the great weekend they'd have, he could finally break his abstinence streak (a bloke had to shag a girl every so often) and he did need a vacation. "It's Granger."

Blaise's eyebrows raised and he crossed his arms. "Mudblood Granger?" he asked.

"Do not say that word." Draco growled, his voice getting low and grizzly like. Blaise took a step back, quite scared at his friends demeanour.

"Fine," he sighed. "But it's Muggle-born Granger?" he asked. Draco nodded, rubbing his forehead. "How do you see her often?" he asked.

Draco pointed up to the direction of Haley's room. "Granger's her dance teacher. I am paying her to dress Haley every week, so she comes here once a week. She's the only other option. And I haven't shagged a girl in so long."

Blaise put a compassionate hand on his friend's shoulder. "Have you been using cold showers and your five-fingered friend?" he asked. Draco nodded sadly. "I think she's our only choice."

"I'll go talk to her, I really do want to go." Draco said and Blaise bid him a good-bye, disappearing out of the Floo. "Haley!" he called once his friend had gone. "Come with me, we have to go to the studio for a moment." She could not have came down any quicker.

Hermione was sitting in her office, trying to clear up from the Saturday afternoon classes. Lacey had long gone home after throwing up in the bathroom. She blamed it on the three-day old sushi she had consumed for lunch.

The last student, a little boy named Jeremy, had left only five minutes ago when the bell rang. Hermione's head popped up. _Who could be here?_ She wondered, getting up from the small table in the equally small office. She poked her head around to see Malfoy standing with his hands in his pockets and Haley scurrying behind him into the telly room.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, completely shocked to see him there. He hurried towards her and pushed her into her office. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I need to ask you a favour," he started. Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Another one? I'm already dressing your daughter, what next? Want me to play nanny?" she practically laughed but Draco bit his lip uncomfortably. "Seriously, Malfoy?" She asked.

"It's just for one weekend!" he persisted, clasping his hands and practically begging Hermione. She thought she'd never see the day when Malfoy begged her, a Mudblood, to do anything for him. However the day she agreed to the extra job with Haley was a close call. "I have to go to a convention for...for work and I don't have anyone to watch Haley for next weekend!" he explained. "You're my last hope."

Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms tighter around her abdomen. "I'm a hardly one at that." she rolled her eyes and when they landed, they went straight to Malfoy's grey pleading eyes. "Maybe." she sighed. "I'll give you an answer on Monday when I come over."

Draco's face lifted at the possibility of him and Blaise going to the convention. He was so happy he almost leaned forward to hug Granger, and even got halfway, but he pulled his arms back. "Uh, thank you Granger." he said, stepping partially out of the door.

"You're welcome," she said, her arms still crossed, but she was a bit relieved and open to anything. She did like to help, no matter who it was, but sometimes Malfoy crossed the line.

Draco smiled, and before he left he called back, "Thanks again, Hermione."

She blushed so much, her skin felt on fire.

**A/N: As I usually say, Review, Favourite and Follow! :)**

**This took me forever to get out, but I didn't go to classes today, so I could finish it. So I hope you liked it!**


	7. Put Your Dreams Away For Now

**A/N: Hey! I'm back again with a brand new chapter! This title is from the song, "Lost In My Mind" by The Head and the Heart **

**I love that song and this chapter. Hope you do too!**

"I can't just say no, can I?" Hermione asked, as she paced the Burrow sitting room. Ginny was sitting on the floor, her hair sticking up in all directions, while she concentrated on some of the final details of the Potter-Weasley wedding.

"Of course you can," said Lacey, who was seated feet-up to the ceiling on the love-seat. Her head was hanging down by the floor and she was blowing on her newly polished nails. She had painted them scarlet, which looked good with her reddish-brown eyes. "Just kick him where he needs it and tell him to get his own damn babysitter, you cost too much."

Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. "You and your American ways..."

At this comment Lacey sat up and put her hands on her hips. She twisted her body to face her two friends. "Not my fault! I grew up in the Bronx and I was a pretty blonde girl! I had to learn to defend myself." Hermione snickered and apologized. "Thank you," said Lacey, who then twisted back down to hang like a bat.

"Lacey's got a point though, Hermione," Ginny said, looking up from her work. She shuffled the papers between her fingers. She accidentally cut herself and let out a tiny, "Ow," before sticking her finger in her mouth. "Why does Malfoy have to control you? You can say no if you want. Or you can say yes, which just sounds ludicrous."

Hermione ran her hand through her hair. She had it back in a headband, but it popped off and into her hand, twirling itself through her fingers. "I just...I don't know! You know how I am Ginny! It's just a little girl and she's quite polite and nice. She hardly seems like she's of Malfoy blood. But then there's that actual fact, that she _is _Malfoy's daughter." She stopped pacing and tapped her feet.

"You're quite in a pickle." Lacey said groggily. "How bad is Malfoy now? Has he changed at all?"

Hermione shook her head. "Well, not that I've noticed, no." she said, slouching now into a plushy maroon chair. "I mean, I'm sure he's different, he has Haley to take care of. However I haven't seen him act any differently." Except begging of course. But Hermione was going to keep that to herself, as a treat.

"Now, ultimately the decision is up to you, Hermione. Do you want to deal with Malfoy more than you usually do, or not, but have him have to search for another sitter for Haley?" Ginny asked, raising one ginger eyebrow.

"_Or_," started Lacey, "you could just forget about it and then ignore Malfoy forever." Hermione thought for a moment.

"I like that option," she said thoughtfully, and Lacey pumped the air, "but I still don't know. It's all new for me." she sighed, rubbing her head.

Hermione, Ginny and Lacey sat still for a few moments, none of them saying a word, breathing slow deep breaths. "I think I know." Hermione said finally. "I think I've decided that I'm going to tell Malfoy-"

Draco raced to the door, as it was ringing and being knocked at the same time. He reached for the knob when out of the corner of his eye he saw Haley already in her underwear, running around. He didn't have time to look at who it was, so he turned quickly on his heel and ran after Haley.

"Ah!" she screamed and laughed as Draco picked her up. He dropped her onto the sleigh bed, and wrapped her up with a small blanket on the top. She was wrapped up to her face, so she looked like an Arab Sheikh. Draco dropped her down and she scurried out of the room, hopping away.

He rolled his eyes and picked her up again before he walked up to the door. This time he finally was able to open the door and found himself face to face with Granger.

Her face glanced down to the wrapped Haley and she gave a look back up to Draco. "Why is Haley wrapped up to her face in a blanket?" she asked.

Draco gave a half-smile. "Cocoon nap time?" he suggested. Hermione didn't buy it, but didn't persist. She leaned up against the door-jam and rapped it with her fingers.

"So, may I come in?" she asked, looking over Draco's shoulder. He nodded and made space through the door. Hermione slipped in casually and turned, leaning against the table. Draco set Haley on the counter, holding her back for support.

Hermione had come with Haley's hair products to get her ready in. No matter what she was still going to dress her, partake in her side of the deal. There was money in it for her, too, anyway. She cleared her throat and Draco's eyes shot up. He had been glancing at Hermione's feet, that were in a tight fifth position. She eyed Haley who was obliviously blowing spit bubbles in her mouth.

Draco nodded and gave an 'Ah' sound as he understood. "Hey, Bug?" he asked, looking over to his tiny wrapped up daughter. She looked to her daddy, and popped the spit bubble on his nose. Draco gave a slightly disgusted look for a moment, but quickly wiped it off his face when she laughed. "Miss Hermione," he shuddered at her name, "and I have to talk for a moment, why don't you go to the bathroom before you get ready?" he suggested.

"Okay Dae! I'll be back!" Haley jumped from the counter and landed perfectly on her feet, but the blanket fell, and she ran off to the bathroom in her underwear. Draco rubbed his face on his hands, completely embarrassed.

"I see that once a week," muttered Hermione, and Draco sighed with a smile. "I've come to give you my answer and it is..." but she stopped after she saw the smile still stuck on his face. It wasn't of shame or relief. It was of pure love and it was stuck in the same spot Haley just stood. He picked up the blanket and held it close to his chest, and turned back to Hermione.

"I'm waiting for an answer Granger," he said, folding the blanket again and again. Refolding it, and then folding it again. Hermione stayed quiet, biting her lip and looking at the ground. _He was so compassionate with his daughter, loved her, would do anything for her, and now needed someone to watch over her, and he trusted her, a _Mudblood_ to watch over his only daughter, Haley. _

Hermione shook her head as her thought muddied her mind. "I've changed my mind," she looked up at Draco and nodded. "I'll be happy to watch Haley this weekend." she said, smiling slightly.

Draco face actually lifted from happiness. "You will?" he asked. Hermione nodded again and Draco's eyes widened. "Truly?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Yes, for the last time! I'm not going to say it again Malfoy, I'm not!" Her tone got a bit more rough sounding and annoyed, but she tried to even out the sound. "I am honoured that you trust me to take care of your daughter..."

"...you were the last person I wanted to pick..." Malfoy added, but Hermione didn't hear him.

She continued anyway. "...and I know that this convention seems important to your job..."

"...my job in being a human being, maybe..." he added again.

"So yes, I will take Haley on for the weekend. Of course you'll need to write me out some sort of plan of her schedule, what she likes to eat, what she's allergic to, how often to bathe her or if at all," Draco shot her a look that could have pierced through lead. She put her hands up in defence. "Some people do that, sorry. But I also need a suitcase of packed clothing, any toiletries, some ointments or medicines or herbs maybe, possibly-"

Draco clapped a hand over Hermione's mouth that had been moving a kilometre a minute. "I should have done that three items ago." he said with a laugh. Hermione went to cross her arms, but found them already there, so she settled for a sarcastic eye roll. He removed his hand and paused, seeing if Hermione would talk. She didn't. "I do have some things that you will need to know." he said, leading the way into the sitting room.

Hermione hesitantly followed. She uncrossed her arms, and rapped her hands on the side of the couch. "One;" Draco started, lifting a finger. "Haley won't let anyone give her a bath besides me. So bathing is a no go." Granger didn't look surprised, but merely expectant. "Two; She's allergic to hazelnuts. So there is nothing in this house with hazelnuts in it. If you bring any food into this house, you must make sure it is hazelnut free."

Hermione shook her head like she understood. Draco knew she didn't though she wasn't a parent.

"Three;" his voice got lower this time, and more serious. The room felt icy cold, as if a cool wind had just blown through, freezing everything it touched to ice crystals. "She has nightmares at night. They started up just about two years ago, but she hasn't complained for a year."

"Then how do you know if she's having nightmares?" Hermione butted in, asking a reasonable question.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, as if reflecting on a poor memory. "You'll just know," he promised. "She twists and turns and moans and cries."

Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable in the Malfoy residence. As if she were invading on something private; Malfoy and his mind. However ridiculous it was, when Draco opened his silver eyes, they looked somewhat more distant.

"Four; her favourite food to eat on Saturdays is soup. She likes any kind, but after a few months we decided to make a list." Draco swaggered briskly into the kitchen. He opened up a cupboard and pointed to the inside. On it was a laminated list that looked as if it had been scribbled over many times. "She had cream of cheese last week," Draco said pointing to the soup name. He moved his pale, slender finger down to the name beneath it and tapped twice. "This Saturday is tomato."

Hermione read the list. It was quite intricate, with instructions how to carefully create the "masterpiece that is..soup" as the title of the document read. She glanced over the tomato directions and gave a puzzled look. "What does 'sand' mean?" she asked.

"What? I thought at least you'd know, Granger." Malfoy laughed, peering over her shoulder. Or more, her head, as Hermione was quite a bit shorter than himself. She had long legs, but a short torso, leaving her to seem like a midget compared to the long and lanky Malfoy heir.

The witch rolled her eyes pointed to the sheet. "It says, 'sand crackers into soup and then, with a clean spoon, mixed the crumbs anti-clockwise into the soup.' It sounds like something just out of a Potions textbook. And I've never heard sand used in that text before." she muttered to Draco.

He gave a laugh and held up his right hand, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "Sand," he said, pointing to it. "Like sandpaper? Rub the crackers between your fingers and crumble it in. Sand was just an easier alternative. Besides, my hands sort of feel like sandpaper."

"They do not," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned away from him, clearly blushing from her momentary "brain-fart" as Lacey liked to call it. She had a few of those every once in a blue moon.

"Do too," Draco said, reaching his hand out and placed it on Hermione's. He rubbed it gently and laughed as her eyes grew wider. He pulled it away just in time and sauntered over to the table, sitting down and waiting for the questions.

Hermione's mouth was open a bit and she couldn't look any more surprised. "How is that possible?" she asked, grazing the part of her hand that had almost started bleeding from the scratch. Draco shrugged Slytherin-like, with his mouth curled in an all-knowing smile.

"After dealing with a child for going on five years, working at St. Mungo's every other moment of my life, and having to live through...never mind...my hands got a little...wore." he said, wringing his hands nervously. "Um, forget I said anything."

Hermione wanted to say something, but Malfoy hadn't cursed her out for five minutes and she wanted to keep this streak going. She would admit that she's naturally nosy, so that wouldn't stop her from finding out whatever Draco was hiding.

"Dae! Dae!" Haley called, running into the room. She was flailing her arms around like a maniac, her wispy hair standing on end.

"What is it, Bug?" Draco asked, his attitude and emotion automatically changing as Haley bounded into the room.

His energetic daughter scurried up to him and bent down in front of his legs, as if reaching for her toes. Her hair flopped over and she bounced upside down. "Up, Dae!" she squealed.

Malfoy gave a small laugh and bent over, picking Haley up by the waist. He twisted her so she was face down horizontally, and made a type of helicopter noise. He ran through the small cottage, having Haley "fly". He gave her a 360 twist through the threshold and a giant dip by the sink. Hermione watched with ease, moving slightly out of the way when she needed to and laughing at the precious giggles Haley made.

Eventually Malfoy dropped Haley onto the long L-shaped sofa and kissed her forehead. "How was that, Bugga?" he asked. The little girl giggled and gave her father a thumbs-up.

"Really fun, Daddy, really fun!" she laughed, reaching up and kissing her father's nose. Draco's face scrunched when Haley kissed him, and then he crawled off the sofa, leaving her lying there, smiling wide.

Hermione felt like she was in a rut as she and Haley Apparated into the alley. "Miss Hermyne?" That was a bit closer at least. She looked patiently down at the small child.

"Yes, Haley?" she asked, stopping their walk. The little girl placed her hand under her chin as if contemplating thought. She made a 'hm' noise and looked at her opposite hand that was in the centre of Hermione's.

"Um. Um. Um. Um." Haley repeated trying to think of what she wanted to say. "Are you my new mummy?" she asked.

Hermione almost laughed out loud, but didn't and kept a straight face. "No darling, I'm not your mum. Why would you say that?"

Haley shrugged her shoulders. "'Cause my mummy never dressed me, or called me darling, or held my hand. And Daddy says that's what mummy do, and that's what you do. Plus you talk to Daddy, my mummy never talked to Daddy." She said this in a slow, Malfoy-like tone. Even Malfoy kids had smooth, drawling voices.

Hermione was puzzled for a moment on why Haley said such cryptic things. It was almost scary, the way she talked. Like she was old. "Come on dar-Haley," she caught herself mid-sentence. Hermione shook her head and dragged Haley along to the front door.

The chime rang out and anyone in the Academy turned their heads. "Hello Miss Hermione!" called out a range of voices. The smile on the Muggle-born witch's mouth curved even more.

Each and every girl or boy that came up to Hermione to say 'hello' she's shoot one right back. Even shy Evangeline muttered a greeting. Evangeline had been talking a bit more in class, mostly because of Haley, who always partnered with her. The two girls would whisper to each other between combinations. Hermione would not correct them since she wanted Evangeline to be more open in the class. Thankfully, that's what was happening.

The two girls squirmed their ways through the crowded corridors of the dance studio. Hermione squished past a large woman holding a baby, and almost tripped over a play toy. She was teaching this kids how to dance, not offering a nursery for younger siblings! Sometimes she hated having the studio, other times she couldn't imagine her life without it.

"Hold on a minute, Haley," Hermione said, dropping the girl's hand and slipping off her jumper. She hopped as she slid off her boots and shimmied her giant feet into teacher heels. Haley stood in the corner of the office, swinging her arms around in a circle. She looked up at the ceiling and bubbled her lips bored.

Hermione glanced at the clock out of the corner of her eye. It read 4:02, which meant she was two minutes late for the start of her class. Her eyes grew and she grabbed Haley but the arm and hurried to the 2nd studio where her class was.

Suddenly, a squishy yellow toy car found its way in the middle of Hermione's track. She, unfortunately, didn't see it and found herself face-down in less than five seconds. Haley, being the offspring off a cunning Slytherin, had let go of Hermione's hand just in time to see her flail to the ground.

By the time Hermione found herself to her feet, Haley had gotten inside the classroom. She took a few cautious steps and then continued on her way, looking down to make sure not to step on any more surprise toys.

However, she didn't look up.

A Junior Company member, Reagan, slammed straight into Hermione's bent head and the plate she was holding flipped straight onto Hermione's head, slapping red jelly right onto her neatly pulled back hair.

"Mer-Oh God!" Hermione corrected, remembering she was around a group a Muggles. She whipped her hair around, trying to get the jelly out. Sadly, while she whipped her hair back and forth, Lizzie was walking with her giant reusable water bottle, straight into the already sticky Hermione.

With jelly hair, a soaked outfit, and possibly a twisted ankle, Hermione made herself finally into the studio. It was only 4:03, all of that only happened in one minute. She was sure nothing else could go wrong.

Again, she was wrong.

Halfway through the class, Hermione was showing the girls how to do a passé, when one of the Preston girls raised her hand. "Yes?" she asked, not adding a name. The two girls were still too identical.

The girl's eyes were red and watery, her face was a bit flushed and she was shaking like a horse flitting off flies. "Miss Hermione? I don't feel very-" The young girl didn't get to finish what she was going to say, but Hermione could put the puzzle together when she leaned over and vomited onto the ground.

The witch shut her eyes immediately to keep from upsetting herself. The other girls echoed "Eww..." and then another lurching sound came from the opposite side of the room. Hermione pinched one eye open to see that Caroline had gotten sick too. Then the other Preston girl.

Eyes still closed, Hermione waved her hand to the relative direction of the other three girls. "Haley, Clara and Evangeline, please leave the room so I can get a mop to clean up. Kate, Karen and Caroline, please try and make it to the bathroom and quick as possible." She stepped out of the way as the six girls raced each other out of the door. Many mothers and/or fathers that had been watching the class cringed and turned away from the mess.

Hermione stepped out of the room herself and went to get a mop to clean things the Muggle way. Until she got enough money, she was going to have to stay with this hand-me-down dance school. But she couldn't wait until she could afford her own, magical one. Then there would be no more mopping puke. Just a wave of wand and that would be it. She just needed the money.

Maybe Malfoy's demands were doing _her _a favour.

**A/N: Took me forever to update, I know. This was just mostly a filler chapter to lead to the next one, so I had writer's block :(**

**I hope you liked this chapter! I'll try and post the next one this weekend, and the one after that Monday or Tuesday. Thank you all who are still reading this and enjoying it. As I always say, please Review anything! What you think will happen, what you like, why you think something happened, anything! Just Review! And Favourite and Follow. It really does mean the world to me :) **


	8. I Try To Have A Little Fun Now

**A/N: Midterms, novels, musicals, oh my! I've been under lots of stress lately trying to finish this and do other things that it took me forever to put this out. This is were the M Rating really comes in ;) I hope you don't hate it! Title from the song "Yeah Yeah" by Willy Moon.**

Draco and Hermione stood in his sitting room. He had just called Haley to come say goodbye, and was now scratching his head, and having a freak-out. "I've never been away from her for one day since she was born," he muttered to himself, rubbing his sweating hands on his jeans. "I've wiped her chin, cleaned her body, dressed her, every day."

Hermione wanted to put a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder, but knew it would result in awkward tension neither of them wanted to face. She felt bad for him, and could see how much he loved his daughter. It must've been so hard for him.

Haley trotted down the stairs, and when she reached the landing, eagerly ran into her father's open arms. "'Bye Dae," she whispered, "I'm gonna miss you a whole bunches! Promise." The added promise almost made Draco back out of the deal and stay home, but Blaise had already paid for everything, and he could feel his pants tighten as each minute passed.

"Oh, I'll miss you too Bug. I love you. Be good for Miss Hermione." he said, motioning to Haley's babysitter. He cringed again, with the echo of the her name bouncing back in his head.

"I will Daddy, I will! I love you too, lots and lots!" Haley gave one last award-winning smile and Draco knew that's all he could take. He kissed her head once more and looked over her head at Hermione. 'Take care of her,' he mouthed to her. Hermione nodded and Draco stood back up, and brushed his thighs.

Draco's voice was gone, so he merely waved to the two girls who seemed to already be getting along. His face was blank but his mind was going and going, trying to think of anything else than how much he'd miss Haley.

Blaise and Draco had agreed to meet up at his place, otherwise known as Zabini Bachelor Pad, and then Apparate to the convention. Draco earlier had asked Blaise if it bothered him that the girls were Muggles. He had answered with, "Boobs be boobs."

Draco knocked on the mahogany door and in literally two seconds, Blaise appeared behind the newly-opened door. "Ready?" he asked, practically jumping up and down from excitement.

Malfoy just shrugged his shoulders. "I guess. I'm sure I'll be happier as soon as I get there." Blaise nodded and slapped his friend on the back, making Draco cough a bit and choke on spit. He had what looked like a giant golf bag swung around his shoulders, but it didn't seem very heavy.

"You'll have a great time!" Blaise insisted. "Remember the flyer? Unlimited buffet, strippers, hookers, one-on-one rooms, it's a bachelor's dream come true!" Draco gave a half-smile and his friend rolled his eyes and pulled out a cap. "Look what I got from a Muggle shop I plan to wear!" It was a black cap with a teeny (yet large) pair of breasts as the two 'o's in the word 'Hookers' and one the back said 'I love.'

"Wow..." Draco raised his eyebrows and took a step back from Blaise. "That is...blunt." he said in the nicest way possible. Truthfully, he found in crude and quite embarrassing. Being a father may have softened him up a bit, but even back when he was 17, sleeping with any girl he could get his hands, a cap like that he still wouldn't find appealing. It was appalling.

"I find it dashing!" Zabini said, smiling and lifting his chin in a very Slytherin way. "Let's go mate, we're wasting enough time as it is." Draco gave a curt nod and they hooked arms (in a quite manly way) and Apparated to a special wizard entrance.

While Draco had been busy getting married and starting a family, his best mate was busy in Italy, his home country, living in a brothel. He could never get enough of the women there, feeling up a new harlot every night, sometimes two at once. Luckily, being a Zabini, money was never a problem to come by and Blaise had plenty to spend while staying there. Draco had wanted to visit him once or twice, but he always had Haley, so Blaise visited instead.

Even though the convention was Muggle, it was known throughout the Wizarding World, so many wizards created an entrance into the non-magical convention for magical beings. It seemed a bit complicated, but to Pureblood wizards, going through a entrance with Muggles was never an option. That included Blaise, even through Draco's tough speeches on how bloodline didn't matter now that the Dark Lord had long since been killed.

In a snap they arrived at the wizard entrance. A man wearing long grey robes with a long wand was looking over many ecstatic wizards before them. "Name," he said to the small shivering wizard in front of them.

"Picoul," responded the man. "Tray Picoul." The guard-wizard grunted and waved his wand over Picoul, making the wizard's hand glow a sweet golden colour. A small voice emanated from the hand and whispered, "Magical."

"The fee." he said, and the small man dropped a bag of galleons into his hand. "You may enter," said the guard, stepping out of the way of the door. It opened slightly to let Picoul in, and in the background, women dancing around silver poles with hardly any clothes on could be seen for a brief moment. The guard's wand made a tick noise and a small, wispy number appeared above the wand tip, 53, and then changed to 54 before disappearing.

Blaise and Draco were allowed to go next and they both opened their mouths to say their names when the guard held up a hand.

"A Malfoy and Zabini, no need to tell me, your colour pallet is enough for admittance. Just the 60 galleons will do. Each." No matter what name you came from, it seemed like, the guard still wanted the money. The cheapskate.

The two bachelors shrugged their shoulder and tossed in some easy pocket money. Before their eyes, the door opened and they strolled into the convention, not before Draco watched the number above the wand tick to 56.

If Draco had ever seen Blaise excited before, what he was seeing NOW was indescribable.

The man (was he even a man) jumped around and around at the sight of the first pair of breasts. He immediately scurried over, eyes wide and mouth agape.

The convention was held in a ginormous ballroom in a Muggle hotel. There were at least 11 purple circular platforms with pole sticking out from the middle. Women with about a metre of clothing on their bodies were busy flinging themselves on the poles.

Others stalked the ground, wearing push-up bras and thongs, either delivering food or giving well-aroused men lap dances. In corners of the room sat cages with at least three girls in each, making out and feeling up each other.

For some reason, even through his dry spell, the many pair of knockers hardly affected Draco. It sort of disgusted him however. No matter how much he told himself that this was for the best and it was just like old times, going through everything he has, nothing seemed the same any more. Nothing did.

After standing around for a few awkward minutes, Draco finally made his way to the buffet. He wasn't hungry but it gave him something else to do.

Across the buffet lay foods from different countries. Russia, China, South Africa, and others. Even some normal foods ranged from muffins to fish to cheesecake. If the event hadn't been a large convention for strippers and hookers, the food might actually had fit the vicinity.

"Malfoy!" Draco turned on his heels to see Blaise waving at him while a busty brunette proceeded to give him a lap-dance. He clenched a 20 pound-note between his teeth, "C'mere," he murmured.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and sauntered over. The stripper began to rub against Blaise, and he dropped the note in between her breasts and her bra, right in the separation line. "What is it?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Why are you not down here, enjoying the sight?" he asked, circling his fingers at the stripper's breasts. "Or throwing money to those beautiful dancers? They do this just for you!"

Draco glanced up and saw a skinny blonde begin to rid of her top. Something about this girl was a bit different, and he found himself staring at her bouncing chest as she skipped around the circle. Another girl strayed over to the blonde's pole, and as if this were a play they had practised many times, began to kiss in a passionate make-out. Many of the guys cheered and tossed more money the girls' way.

Almost as if entranced by a spell, Draco tossed up some notes, still eyeing the girls and their heated kiss. Finally for the first time since they arrived, he felt somewhat aroused. Force of habit, Draco's hand began to drift to the front of his pants, but stopped, and created a fist.

The world seemed to suddenly revolve around Draco and the blonde as the other girl went back off to her own stage. The girl seemed to be giving him a personal dance, her eyes, a bright green colour, locked with Draco's own silver. As the song came to a close the dance didn't seem to end.

The girl dipped down to Draco's ear, her bare chest in front of his face. "Come look for me later, ask for Ginger."And with that she was gone, leaving the stunned wizard with only the memory to keep.

"I have to find her," he said, stranding up immediately. Blaise grabbed her forearm supportively.

"That's the spirit!" he exclaimed, letting Draco's arm go. "Now go get her," he mumbled and turned back to his own dancer, who was beginning to leave. Instead me pulled out more Muggle money and placed it in her panties.

Draco had kept a good eye on where the girls disappeared to, and made his way behind the black curtain. His mind was still muddied and he felt no remorse in his actions at the moment. He saw an ankle sink through the sheets and he followed, pulling back the curtain.

A bright red sign flashed above him. It read, **Good Times Right Here. **_A stripper _and_ a prostitute, _Draco thought to himself. _Versatile. _

The proud heir didn't want to search around asking other hookers where he could find 'Ginger.' He didn't know if that was her real name or not, even so, it still reminded him of the horrid blood-traitor family, the Weasleys.

Luckily for him, Draco found about a group of 15 doors all aligned with starred names on the front like Hollywood dressing rooms; only these were cardboard and smelled like one-day-too-old cabbage. He found, at the seventh one, the name "Ginger" scratched on in black Sharpie. He gave a gentle knock, hardly audible, even so the door swung open speedily. The bodacious blonde, fully dressed in a translucent lingerie piece, gave what Draco could only describe as a sexy face as she bit her crimson lip.

Casual hellos didn't happen, for Ginger threw herself at Draco like a tossed rag doll. It had been almost five years since he had been intimate with a girl, and for the first half (the part in which they ripped off each others clothing) he forgot how to undo a bra and ended up just tearing it off. The second half, however, he remembered exactly.

The two contacted, their lips pressing against the other in a heated embrace. Draco let go and began to kiss down the girls neck to her chest, resting to gently massage and kiss her nipples. Then he kissed a line down to her belly button and further, giving Ginger, and himself, immense pleasure.

He finally got enough gusto to return to the top and kiss her hungrily. The taste of Ginger still lingered on his lips. He positioned her beneath him comfortably. He teased her, gently putting his tip into her. She moaned and grabbed onto his back, her blonde hair wildly dancing on the pillow.

In merely seconds Draco engulfed himself fully into Ginger, thrusting heavily and grinding against her body. It felt so good to be back in his bachelor position, but yet it felt so wrong. And then he knew finally what was bothering him.

Three seconds upon entry and beautiful bliss, Draco felt himself cum and go soft. He pulled out, his face deep vermilion. "I, uh-" he started as he rolled over onto the other side of the bed. He didn't really remember when he got into a bed, it must've been in between the tricky bra and ecstasy.

"First time?" Ginger asked suddenly. Her voice was much more lower now. Draco didn't know which was more embarrassing, telling her, a harlot, that this was his first time in five years or ever.

"Uh, yeah." he agreed. First time seemed much less embarrassing than 'I've had sex before, but in five years I couldn't get laid.' Even in his head it sounded stupid.

Ginger rolled out of the bed, her lady parts still fully exposed. She really was not ashamed in anything about her body. It must've been something when it came to being a stripper, your body is basically just a piece of art for people to gawk at. You don't cover art. "I won't charge you for that one, you gave me enough during my dance to justify the night."

Draco nodded and grabbed his pants from the ground. There was a large rip around the ankle that he assumed must've happened in the heat of the moment. He shimmied into them and searched around for his shirt and jacket. After a few minutes of searching, Malfoy finally found his shirt, stained slightly with dried cum, beneath a sheet. His jacket, on the other hand, was hidden under a desk he hadn't noticed before. The room-which he assumed, like a teepee, had the ability to disassemble-in all sincerity looked like a cheap Muggle motel room. He had visited one by his university campus many times with various Muggle girls.

When he finished fixing the cuffs on his jacket, Draco looked up to see Ginger dressed in a new outfit, a push-up black and pink bra and matching knickerbockers with a black suspender belt with baby pink ribbons. She was holding a cigarette to her mouth and a lighter in her other hand. She clamped the cigarette between her teeth. "Go," she ordered in a much less kinder way than before. Her face had sudden developed wrinkles and her breasts did not look as perky in real life as they did in a fancy bra like she wore currently. Her bright blonde hair suddenly had hints of grey and the faded marks along her stomach were no new sight to Draco. He didn't say anything else but left in a hurry, shaking his head along as he went.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea to come after all.

Blaise was busy enjoying the sight of the strippers along side the wall, playing with each other's straps. The sight-drunken men cheered from behind a velvet rope, begging for two girls who were obviously gay to make out again.

This was not how Draco wanted to spend his weekend.

He wanted to be with his daughter Haley. He loved being with her, she made him happy, he made her happy. Isn't that all he needed? One of the reasons he agreed to come to this ridiculous convention was to prove to himself he could go a day without his daughter. Now he wasn't seeing how that was possible.

The giant ballroom didn't quiet even as the clock ticked to three in the morning. Draco, who after a long boring afternoon, resigned to reading in the corner by the food. He found this Muggle book sitting alone on a chair by his corner. Upon investigation, he found out it was about a sea captain and an albino whale. The plot confused him at first on why Muggles would write something with such a boring plot bunny. However as he read he realized that he had judged the book by its cover-literally-and was nearing the end of it at three in the morning.

Halfway through the novel Draco forgot about Haley and it made him feel extremely guilty. He was a father, it was his job to be concerned about his daughter, his only heir, half of himself. He missed her he did, but somewhere in the mess of Ahab and Moby Dick, Haley left his mind.

He only hoped that she didn't miss him too much.

**A/N: Please Review, Favourite and Follow, but especially Review! It means everything to me to hear your comments! :) **

**I found this girl at my dance studio who looks exactly like Haley! And her name is Hailey! I snagged a photo, so the link will be in my profile! Oh, and Happy Halloween yesterday and Happy Day of the Dead!**


	9. Up Up Up

**A/N: Hey I'm back! Sorry it took me forever! But here's a chapter! Thanks for all the Reviews and I just thought I'd say I don't have a beta, so if anyone wants to, then PM me! This chapter comes from the song "Up Up Up" by Givers**

Draco left his house as quickly as he could. He had promised that Hermione could stay at his cottage since it would be easier and homier for Haley. At first the witch was a bit hesitant, but after making a pro and con chart, thinking it through with Ginny and Lacey and playing with a Muggle Magic 8 Ball, she decided it was for the best.

Hermione bent down to become eye-to-eye with the four year old. She was sitting on the carpeted floor, grabbing and playing with her small pink toes. "Hey Haley," she said, trying to catch the girl's attention.

The hair on Haley's head bopped as she shot her head up when she heard her name. "Yes Miss Hermy?" she asked.

Hermione crunched her nose at the botched up version of her name. She gently wrapped a piece of her unruly hair behind her ear. "What would you like to do this afternoon?" she asked, "There's a fair in town and you could watch some films."

The young girl raised her eyebrows. "What films?" she asked. Hermione had to think for a moment what Lacey told her about the fair in town. It had Ferris wheel, sweets and games and a film festival nearby.

"Old black and white films with lots of music and dancing. Would you like that?" she asked hesitantly, scared to touch the little girl. It was different changing her for dance than it was for touching her face or hair in a motherly way.

Haley was merely inches away from Hermione. She bit her bottom lip a bit too hard. It bled slightly when she opened her mouth back up. "Yes, please," she said, nodding. Hermione was overtaken by the politeness of the girl. She never expected a Malfoy to say the words, 'please' or 'thank you'. Especially not one of Draco' descent. But even he seemed to have changed.

Heaving herself up, Haley stood, towering over Hermione's bent head. "Can we go now?" she asked impatiently. Hermione looked up at the time. The films, she remembered, didn't start until five, and it wasn't even noon yet.

"Why don't we play here first, then go," Hermione suggested, mirroring the child's movements. "Do you have any toys?" she asked. Haley silently nodded and grabbed her teacher's hand, leading her up the staircase.

The two girls, though varied in height and blood, were quite similar. When Haley reached into her toy box and pulled out a gorgeous music box, they both had the same look of amazement.

"My mummy gave it to me," Haley said, unscrewing the top. "Daddy said that she gave it to me before she had to go away and if I get sad to watch it." Hermione didn't say anything but just nodded in understanding.

Haley lifted the lid and twisted the side. Immediately melodious music began to play and a small ballerina figure began to jeté and pirouette around the box. It's pink tut fluffed around, and it seemed almost magical and simple for it to dance en pointe. The little dancer had light brown hair pulled back into a nice bun. Not a strand was in a way. As the song ended the young dancer began to slow down to keep the pace of the music. Eventually the medley finished and the dancer ended in a curtsy.

"That's beautiful, Haley," Hermione said truthfully.

The little child beamed and twisted the side against, this time anti-clockwise. "Watch this," she whispered and again the ballerina began to dance. However instead of remaining inside the perimeter of the box, she twirled out, making her way throughout the room. "I teached her that. I made her dance around," Haley said, watching intently. She had observed the ballerina's dance many times but she still sat in amazement of the petite moves.

Hermione's eyes flitted back and forth, memorizing each move and echoing their names back in her head. She marked each individual position with her feet, and dancing it through her mind.

Before long the ballerina bouréed back into another curtsy and Haley closed up the box. "Can we go now?" she asked politely.

Hermione shook her head from her trance and nodded, standing back up. "Do you want to wear something different? It's a Muggle area and I think I have something you might like," she suggested.

Haley shrugged her shoulders and gave a smile. She didn't talk very much but quite enjoyed company. And Miss Hermione was nice. Very very very nice.

In a short time they had found their way to Hermione's flat, where she was currently dressing the excited child.

"Hold still, hold still!" She laughed, trying to add the finishing touches to Haley's adorable Marilyn Monroe outfit. She had curled her hair a lot and pinned it up to be shorter. She of course, had the classic fancy white dress that Marilyn always wore. However it was more or less one of Hermione's white sun-dresses she had shrunk. Hermione had a few bobby pins poking out of her mouth and taking a few at a time and placing them in Haley's hair. "There, all done!"

Hermione marvelled at the young girl and she spun around. "How am I?" Haley asked, looking down at herself. The witch grabbed her hand a led her to a vanity mirror in the corner of her room in her flat. "I look pretty!" Haley exclaimed when she caught sight of herself.

Feeling slightly closer to the child already, Hermione squatted down at the same height of Haley, touching one of her skinny arms. "Yes you do. You will fit right in with the films. You'll love it Haley."

"Mummy," Haley said turning around to see Hermione. Her lips were bright red and in some kind of pout. Hermione gave a sigh and stopped the girl before she could go on.

"I told you Haley, I'm not your mum. You must call me Miss Hermione and nothing else." she explained slowly. She didn't want to be called 'Mum' it made her uncomfortable. She did want a child some day but at 25, she was prepared.

Haley sighed and gave a frown. "But Miss Hermne-Hernime-Hermy is hard to say!" she exclaimed crossing her arms. "I want my mummy to be you!" She gave the 'puppy-dog look' but jutting out her bottom lip.

Hermione's heart went out to her a gave a sigh. "But Haley I can't. I'm sorry but I just can't..." she sighed. Haley's blue eyes began to water a bit, messing up her make-up. "Please don't cry Haley, I'm just not your mum." Hermione took her thumbs and wiped away a few of her tears.

"Yes you are," Haley said, nodding, tears slowly going away. "My mummy never did this. She never hugged me or dressed me."

Finally Hermione gave in and sighed. "You may call me mummy this weekend only while I watch you. After that I'm going to be Miss Hermione again, okay?" She suggested a compromise. Haley nodded, her grin growing wider and wider with each second.

"What are you wearing Mummy?" Haley asked, grabbing Hermione's hand as she stood. Hermione bit her lip for a second, thinking long and hard.

"Actually, just some regular clothes. Nothing fancy. A sweater maybe." She decided, looking at herself in the mirror. Currently she was wearing some holey jeans and a nice flowing pink shirt that had mini white, blue and red stars on it with puffy pirate like sleeves. It was a bit fancy for the fair but it was still an okay outfit. Lacey would describe it as 'sexy' and a 'single and ready to mingle' shirt since it gave off a bit of cleavage. But it was getting cooler out and a sweater seemed more comfortable.

Haley's eyes grew wide and she tugged on Hermione's hand, forcing her to look down. "Mummy! Mummy! You dress me, I dress you!" She exclaimed happily.

"Oh, no that's not necessary really I-" Hermione tried to tell Haley but the tyke was already running to her drawers, pulling them open and sifted through them speedily. Haley tossed around bras, panties, hidden feminine napkins and other embarrassing items. She even grabbed a hold of one of Ron's old Quidditch shirts Hermione had meant to return and threw it over a lamp. The former Gryffindor attempted to help Haley pick out some articles of clothing but Haley wouldn't allow it.

"I pick out clothes for Mummy!" she said quite loudly. After two more minutes and a difficult decision between the cream top or the scarlet, at last Haley was finished. "Ta-da!" she yelled, showing Hermione the wrinkled clothes on the now messy bed.

"Wow." Hermione said, eyeing the outfit. Wow indeed. Haley had retrieved a scarlet sweater with golden moose stitched into the top which Hermione had gotten in a visit to Canada because of the Gryffindor colours. It was a nice sweater, but she had paired it with a pair of bright neon blue leggings, and it was a sight!

"Mummy like it?" Haley asked eagerly. Hermione gave a strained smile and a forced nod. She glanced over at the other scattered clothing and eyed some bootleg jeans in the corner.

Hermione ran over and picked up the pair of light jeans. "Yes I do, but don't you think these," she held up the jeans, "would look better with that _scarlet_ top, instead of the _teal_ leggings?" She emphasized the clashing colours but Haley still didn't catch on. "You have your father's taste in style," she muttered under her breath so Haley couldn't hear and get upset about her father's absence.

"Just wear what I picked Mummy!" Haley said loudly twirling in circles. "Silly Mummy, c'on I want to go!" Haley sprinted out of the room and down the hall to the flat door.

Hermione groaned and slipped on the clashing clothing. In one final attempt, she cast a spell on herself so that to anyone that wasn't her or Haley, she was wearing the bootleg jeans. It was a complicated and old spell she had found during Hogwarts while searching for light reading, called _Essemeda_. It wasn't taught since it also could be used for bad. She didn't know what bad though, that's all the book had said, 'for bad.'

"Wait Haley, hold on I'm coming!" Hermione called down the door while struggling to take off her ballet flats. She had changed her mind to boots after realising how much they'd be walking.

She hurried out of the room, worried Haley had gotten into more things when she remembered the mess in her bedroom. _I'll clean it later,_ she thought to herself. Haley was standing in the entrance of the door, jumping into the hallway and then jumping out.

"Haley-whatever-your-middle-name-is-Malfoy what are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. That girl was really starting to get comfortable around Hermione and that sort of scared her. It had only been a short time since Draco left.

Haley's face bore a wide smile as she continued to hop. "In!" she exclaimed when she was in the flat. "Out!" she reiterated with the same enthusiasm as she made her way out the door. This repeated multiple times.

Hermione stood in awe of her own little 'hopping pot' and gave a chuckle. Wait, her own? No that wasn't right, Haley was Malfoy's and Malfoy's only. She was only playing her mother for the weekend as a favour. Haley wasn't her daughter, just her student.

"Now now Haley, we should go now if you want to see the films." Hermione said, grabbing the bag that Draco had packed for it. It was filled with stuffed animals and Haley's favourite stuffed cat. It was a white British Longhair and had a small pink collar that said "Bug's Cat" on it. He had explained it was for when Haley was upset or needed to be distracted. He advised Hermione to take it with her if they ever went out in public. When he handed it to her, he was very hesitant, but eventually gave it up.

Haley stopped hopping when Hermione said they were leaving. "Yay! C'on Mummy I want to see films!"

"Okay, take my hand," Hermione told Haley. She did as instructed and in a second they had arrived at a grand fair near the London Eye. "We're here."

They had Apparated to an old alley that Hermione had been to once or twice when she was younger. It had often faired as a great place to see fireworks on a cold London night with her parents. She missed watching the fireworks, them all snuggled up on one blanket and marvelling at explosion after explosion.

A strong feeling of nostalgia overtook Hermione in that moment but she pushed it away and instead focused on the present. "This isn't the cinema!" Haley pointed out loudly. Hermione shushed her kindly and held her hand tighter, weaving out of the alley.

"I know honey, we're going there." Hermione promised and the promise was kept. After going through a maze of bricked alleys and damp streets, they finally found themselves at the small fair. It was just one put on by a few organizations but it was still enjoyable.

The time of the films didn't start for another hour and grey clouds began crowding the pretty blue sky. Hermione searched the area for a nice temporary cover until either a) the coming rain stopped or b) the films started, whichever came first. Her eyes drifted until they landed on the biggest attraction.

"Haley, would you like to ride that?" Hermione asked, pointing up to the London Eye. The young girl's eyes grew to the size of lemons. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes Mummy, yes, but I'm hungry. Food first?" she asked politely. Hermione nodded and took her to a soft pretzel kiosk to buy a pretzel filled with cream cheese. She was just about to pay when her own stomach rumbled, so she paid for a second pretzel.

From afar, Hermione noticed that the London Eye line had began to get a bit longer, so the two headed over quickly. Upon arrival she noticed a sign that said, "No Food Or Drink Allowed On The London Eye."

"Haley you're going to eat that pretzel quickly okay? We can't take it with us." She said to the young girl. Haley nodded and started shovelling pieces of pretzel into her mouth. "Not too quick," Hermione added when she noticed Haley's cheeks stuffed with the German pastry. "You don't want to get a stomach-ache."

Haley swallowed and bore a large grin. "I won't get stumk-cake Mummy. Daddy says Princesses don't get stumk-cakes."

Hermione almost laughed. Draco Malfoy teaching his daughter that she won't get stomach-aches? Calling her a princess? She couldn't believe how much he'd truly changed.

By the time they had made it up to the front of the line, Hermione was only pecking at the pretzel. She glanced over and saw a trash can in the corner. She bent forward and tossed it in. However something sparkled and caught her eye. She bent forward and picked up what looked like a shiny wrapper. Upon further inspection though, she saw that the item was a Chocolate Frog card! Not only that, but it was hers! "This shouldn't be in a Muggle area..." She muttered to herself. "Especially not in such a big place."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Hermione shook any thoughts away and took Haley hand again as they were permitted into the giant ovoid. The sky was a gorgeous princeton orange that reflected specks of raspberry. It was mesmerizing and Hermione had to remind herself she had to watch Haley.

Luckily the mini-Marilyn Monroe hadn't gone anywhere. Her hand was still clamped tightly around Hermione's own sweaty one. She wasn't crazy about heights because it often reminded her of flying, but she wanted to give Haley a great experience in Muggle London. She wiped her hand on her thigh and breathed in and out slowly.

Despite the height, Hermione knew that her nervousness was also due to her scepticism on having to take care of Haley. She didn't think she was up to it, nor was sure that she even trusted Draco now. He still seemed like the guy from school and she still could not handle him.

"...and my mummy told me that we gonna see films soon. She's nice but she's not my real mummy 'cause my daddy said my real mummy went to the Hogwarts in the sky and-" Hermione turned her head and caught Haley on the other side of the eye, talking to someone in a tall coat. She ran over and shoved Haley into her arms.

"Don't talk to strangers, sweetie," she said almost yelling at Haley for being so stupid to talk to a stranger. The girl was only four, almost five, she should have known that was unacceptable. Hermione shot a death glare into the face of the stranger. However the lighting made his face dark and unrecognisable. "Leave her alone," she growled and hurried to the other side before the man (or woman, but probably man) could follow.

Hermione and Haley stood in the furthest corner away from the mystery stranger until the ride was over. By then it had gotten to the perfect time to head into the cinema.

After everything so far, Hermione was holding Haley close to her body now in protection. They hurried to the cinema doors and were surprised to see that the theatre occupied no one but them. "Strange..." Hermione muttered to herself.

The girls saved their places in the front row and headed to the concessions. They got a small popcorn to share and a few sweets and fizzy drinks. The films just began to start when they sat down.

In order, the shows played, "Breakfast at Tiffany's" "Some Like It Hot" and as a finale "Meet Me in St. Louis." By the time it was the Christmas scene in the final film, Hermione glanced over to Haley and saw her fast asleep in the uncomfortable theatre chairs.

Hermione checked the time on her watch. It was almost two hours past Haley bedtime of 8 o'clock, and she felt horrible. The time had gotten away from them in all of their fun.

"Come on Haley, let's go," Hermione said, gently picking up the sleepy child. She didn't wake up but it didn't faze Hermione. She carefully placed her chest to chest against her laying limply in her arms. Another song began to start as they made their way out of the cinema doors.

And into a vast swarm of Dementors and Death Eaters raiding the fair.

**A/N: I've decided to try and update once a week but until about January my schedule won't clear up. I'm in a musical this weekend which has been consuming most of my time. I'm sorry for this cliffhanger but I wanted to post this today!**

**Thanks for everyone who is enjoying this story and Review! They make me so happy! I love Reviews, Favourites and Follows! AND I love you all!**


	10. Cry

**A/N: Agh! Guys, I really love this chapter! **

**Chapter title comes from "Cry" by Kelly Clarkson :)**

**Still have no beta :( But I think I'm doing fine. **

Dreams often seemed to be different in real life. The hazy feeling in your head leaves, and details become more vivid. You can die, too. However life always seems to be like one big dream...why not wake up?

Hermione wanted to wake up. She wanted this all to be a dream; a nightmare. But the world seemed to be moving too fast in sheets of black and masks of white. Green flares shot through, striking innocent Muggles dead in the chest. The sky deadened to a lead colour, while rain pounded down on the cobblestone streets. From a distance, Hermione could see the London Eye, swaying back and forth. This was not good. It was not good at all.

As the giant amusement tilted and sunk into the water, Hermione finally snapped out of her trance. She was a war veteran, she needed to do something.

Hiking Haley up higher on her chest, Hermione reached for her wand in her sleeve. It slid out and fell to the ground, clanking against the street. She reached down, her hand shaking, as she tried to pick it up. Her loyal wand almost seemed to slip through her fingers but finally she was able to get a steady grasp.

The chaos was everywhere and she didn't know where to start. Yes she did. Turning over her shoulder, she spotted a few Dementors attempting to give Kisses to some poor unfortunate souls. "_Expecto Patronum!_" she exclaimed just loud enough to conjure a silvery otter Patronus from her wand.

Instead of swimming over in the air, Hermione's otter instead charged to the Dementors quickly. It then proceeded to swim around them, making laps like in a community swimming pool. Two Kisses were ended prematurely, but one young girl with flowing blonde hair could not be salvaged. Hermione almost threw up at seeing her soulless face. She looked as if she could have been Haley.

"No, no, no..." Hermione shook her head and continued to run to try and do something. All the poor Muggles being attacked for no reason. Or was there one? _What's going on? Where's the ministry? The Aurors? _Hermione thought to herself.

"_Stupefy!_" she exclaimed as a Death Eater flew above her head. She heaved Haley higher into her arms and turned on her heels to face swarms of Death Eaters and Dementors coming at her. Haphazardly she threw an "_Expecto Patronum!_" and then a few "_Stupefy_" spells and one or two of "_Expelliarmus!_"

Panting heavily, Hermione raced around a corner into one of the alleys she was in earlier. Haley had suddenly became a distraction. She couldn't do anything more, there wasn't anything to do. In the mess of everything she hadn't looked back to see what happened. She couldn't; the destruction was too horrific.

Rain continued to pour down, little droplets falling off the bridge of her noise. Yells and sirens could be heard over the thunderstorm, bellowing out and echoing in Hermione's ears. She began to shake, tears streaming down her face. She should have known something was going on when she saw the fresh Chocolate Frog card. Usually magical folks in Muggle areas acted much safer. No, whoever left it wanted it to be found. It was a signal.

Hermione could not fathom how Haley managed to sleep through all of the destruction. The noise was enough to wake anyone up; it was practically a full circus. She herself had started to get sleepy during the film but now she was wide awake.

Tears continued to bore trails onto her face and she held Haley closer as an explosive completely obliterated the wall beside them. The two shook, and Hermione's knees fell to the ground, scraping them quite hard. She felt her knee cap pop and blood spilled out of her scarred calves. Her hands fell from Haley's back and she scrapped them bare onto the ground. They began to bleed profusely but she pulled back a stray piece of hair and grabbed Haley again.

_What am you doing? _Hermione thought, shaking her head, beginning to think rationally again. _You're a bloody Gryffindor, not a Slytherin! You don't back away from an attack, you go into the fight! Are you a war veteran or not? _

Hermione stood up shakily, blood dripping down her legs onto the damp ground. With as much strength as she could, she cast a Weightless Charm on Haley and crawled out of the alleyway. Shots of spells kept brazing her head, and around the fair lay bloody bodies or soulless faces.

Quickly, Hermione twirled her wand through her fingers to firmly grip it. "_Expelliarmus!_" she exclaimed, pointing the spell at a wand-happy Death Eater. "_Expecto Patronum!_" That was, of course, towards Dementors.

She was just about to raise her wand again when it flew out of her hand. She felt herself hit with a spell and she fell backwards, Haley turning heavy in her arms.

Suddenly Hermione awoke with a start, her heart racing. She reached for her wand but it wasn't there. However she fell back with a start when pain shot through her left knee, paralysing her. Haley was no longer on her chest and when she looked around herself, she saw she was all alone lying in a medical bed. The room was grey and empty, and one corner was blown in. She recognized it as the alley where she was last. But now she sat inside the building.

Hermione had failed, how had she failed? Was she not who she used to be? Had she gotten weak? And Haley? Where was Haley? What was she doing now? Malfoy would kill her-no _plummet_ her into the ground. First things first, how had she gotten here?

That question was quickly answered when a small door in the corner of the room opened, and two grown men walked in. One wore deep purple robes and a flat hat on the top of his bald head. Pierced through his left ear was a single golden hoop. He towered over the other man, a slender, knobbly-kneed, raven headed man with dirty round glasses. He was twirling his wand nervously in his hand while the elder man stood with his broad shoulders tall in a serious manner.

"Harry!" Hermione called out to her old friend. However her voice cracked and spoke softly. That didn't stop him from hearing. Almost immediately Harry Potter turned his head to see Hermione awake and well.

"Hermione!" Speedily, Harry jogged over to the bed, his sweater sleeves widening and covering his fists of hands. He wiped away obvious sweat that had dripped down his forehead and rolled his sleeves back up.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the present Minister of Magic, stalked over to the bed. He didn't speak in his deep voice yet, but in his eyes it looked as if he had something on his mind. His shoulders moved slightly as he shifted his weight from his left side to his right.

"Where's Haley?" she asked right away as Harry took deep breaths to try and calm down. His face shone red and worried. "Where's Haley?" she reiterated, getting irritated and impatient. She felt her tears continue to fall down her face, brazing her lips. She wondered if she had cried being unconscious, or if it were medically and magically impossible.

"Who?" Harry asked, until he remembered the young girl they found in Hermione's arms. "Oh the girl? She's being washed up right now." He pointed behind himself and then crossed his arms. "Who is she anyway?" he asked.

"She's Mal-" Hermione started but stopped. Maybe telling Harry who was her father wouldn't be such a grand idea, given the event that just happened with Death Eaters. "She's one of my students."

Harry nodded and didn't question anything. Instead he just stared at Hermione, his best friend, and studied her. Her face had bits of dried blood of different shades that indicated it wasn't just hers. Her nose was crooked as if many people – in a rush to save themselves – ran on top of it, snapping it in two. She was lucky her neck was not in the same state. Her hands were still bleeding nicely but once the Healer returned her skin would be new. Her knee however, was a different story. Harry hadn't looked, but the Healer had explained something about how the knee cap had become disconnected and outside of the body. He hadn't wanted to know more information. They could put it back in place, but she'd have to wear a knee brace for a while.

When they had found Hermione and the young girl, they had been floating in a pool of blood. Some was Hermione's, others came from multiple slaughtered and unrecognisable bodies. Her calves had been scarred down to a layer through some tissue and spilling blood. Kingsley had stepped in to help her, but Harry had already bent down, knee deep in blood, muttering "_Vulnera Sanetur_" over and over. The skin on her calves was now scar-less thanks to dittany, but the inner pain still stayed.

Kingsley harrumphed and stood a little straighter if that were at all possible. Hermione and Harry both turned their attentions away from their thoughts and waited. "Something is amiss," he stated in his deep, spine-tingling voice. "Someone wants revenge over Voldemort. Someone who does not blame Harry. Someone who wants nothing but power or destruction. Something is wrong. Nothing adds up." He directed this small speech at Harry. Then the Minister turned to Hermione. "The Ministry was attacked, the Auror Office specifically. There were about 10 Death Eaters. No one knows how they got in. All we know is that they retreated to the coast and continued to attack this Muggle area. You were included, Miss Granger.

"By the time we arrived, most of the Dementors had fled, but there was still the Death Eaters. Harry and I and the rest of the Aurors rounded up as many as we could. The ones captured however...no one recognized them. Almost as if they were under Polyjuice. But no matter what, they seemed to be staying in that state. Unrecognisable." At the last word, all the strength in Kingsley's voice seemed to die off in a loss of hope.

Hermione was lost for words. Revenge? Who would want revenge? All of He-Who – Voldemort's closest followers were either dead or rotting in Azkaban at that very moment. "Do you-Who would-What?" she stuttered, unsure what to think.

"That's what I said when Kingsley told me his prediction," Harry commented. Hermione's forehead scrunched together.

"Prediction?" she questioned, looking back at Kingsley. "You mean you're just-just guessing?" she exclaimed, her voice going high. He only nodded. "That could be absolutely false, though."

Kingsley gave a small shrug. "It could. But I am quite wise if I do say so myself," he gave a small smile that caused a chain reaction of the same action. "Being wise, I do need help figuring things out. What you, Hermione, don't know, is that even after You-Know-Who was defeated, the Aurors never stopped looking for clues, trails, that he could return. Maybe not himself but through someone else."

Hermione shot her head at Harry. "You knew about this and you didn't tell anyone?" she questioned a bit angrily.

He gave a small shrug as if it were no big deal. "Auror's code, Hermione." That shut her up. She didn't have enough energy to fight back.

"Anyway," Kingsley started up again, "The rest of the Ministry, minus myself, is completely in the black. The Auror Department has been, of course, trying to find and imprison any remaining Death Eaters. By last spring we thought we had them all. Apparently we were wrong..." he drifted for a moment before returning. "We did find something strange however. I cannot tell you exactly what it is, Hermione, but if it is exactly what we think it may be, or close, then we have something to worry about."

Hermione was in awe. She was still in pain, but it had numbed as she took in all the information. She sat for a moment, letting in sink in. "Who's 'we'?" she finally asked. Kingsley appeared confused. "You keep saying 'we found something' or 'we have something to worry about' or 'what we think'. Who is we?" she repeated.

"The Auror Department of course. Every Auror and Auror in training we have." Kingsley replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

Hermione wrinkled her face, her nose crinkling as if she just smelled something repulsive. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked confused. Harry and Kingsley shared a strained look. Harry's sort of said, 'I-Told-You-She'd-React-This-Way' while Kingsley's said, 'It's-Fine'.

Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione, I don't know if you realise this, but um, you aren't an Auror..." Hermione crossed her arms.

"I was offered the position!" she exclaimed.

"But you turned it down," Kingsley reminded her.

"To go to America," Harry added.

"Just because you were proffered the position of an Auror doesn't mean since you said no you can still know classified Auror information, Miss Granger. No matter if you're a war veteran or not." Kingsley stated, his voice turning back to deep and a bit rough on the end of words.

Hermione gave a long sigh. "If I'm not supposed to know, why are you telling me now?" she asked, confused on the whole thing. They didn't want her to know but they were telling her...and where was Haley? Washing? Washing where? She needed to be safe.

"Because this is becoming a real problem now. Ron and I are going to tell Ginny and the rest of the D.A. later." Harry explained. "This is no longer speculation. Someone or something wants revenge. This had to be the first attack. We don't know how long until a second one. But Hermione," he started. Subconsciously her eyes had drifted to the cold floor from all the thoughts running through her head. Hermione looked up when her name was called, her hair falling lightly onto her bottom lip. "I ask you one thing. Do not worry. Do not plan. Do not contact me or Ron. Act like everything is normal and fine. Continue to live life. If something unexpected comes up, that's when I want you to jump in and join. Until then, please relax and don't worry."

Immediately Hermione's eyebrows shot up. Her eyes gave a message of complete disbelief. "I'm not important to this?" she started, her voice raising. "If I wasn't with you during the war you would have died, or it would still be going on! I'm a useful asset! I can't just sit around and 'pretend' like everything is fine!" she yelled, her voice going haywire.

"No Hermione, that's not what I-" Harry started but she interrupted.

"What you meant, I get it! But that's what it is!" She screamed, her hurt voice echoing off of the ceiling. The sound of herself screaming quite meanly to her friend affected her. She never got mad at Harry. At once Hermione quieted, and then let a few tears fall. She didn't know what was going on with herself, getting upset over nothing.

"The medicine," Harry said to Kingsley. Those were the last words he uttered before racing out of the room to grab the Healer. Hermione kept heaving and sobbing until she made herself sick. By the time Harry returned, she had a pillow on her face, drowning out the sobs and trying not to get sick again.

The Healer, Healer Francis, held a small cup in his hand. "Miss Granger, please take the pillow off your face and sip the potion. I don't want to forcibly give it to you again." _Again? _Hermione thought. _Oh, when I was unconscious._

With the last bit of energy she had, Hermione lifted the pillow off of her face and drank the potion. It tasted like a cross of pumpkin juice and eggplant. It wasn't very good, but before she could further analyse it, she was out.

When she awoke, sunlight was breaking through the glass as a natural alarm clock. The first change Hermione noticed was that her left leg was elevated in a sling. A navy brace was around her kneecap which looked as good as new. Her hands, though still a bit painful, looked perfect from the outside.

"Mummy..." came a small voice from the side of the bed. At first Hermione was confused on who was calling her Mummy, but then she remembered her promise to Haley. Afraid of her condition, Hermione took caution to the wind when she turned to meet Haley's eyes.

At first glance, there was nothing wrong with Haley, she sat like a old, dusty porcelain doll. But looking closer and observing her eyes, you could see the pain erupting through her body. Her eyes watered and her face did not smile. Although she was sleeping during the explosions, she must've seen the aftermath.

"Haley...are you okay?" Hermione asked, immediately starting to worry, she did not want Haley to be upset and get hurt and then tell her father, Draco. She didn't need to be yelled at for being a careless babysitter, which she was.

The young girl, who was wearing what looked like a flour sack dress, shook her head. Hermione's stomach dropped.

"Where do you hurt?" she asked worriedly. Haley pointed to above the left side of her chest. "Your..heart?" she guessed. Haley nodded. "Why does your heart hurt?"

Haley had been hiding her right hand behind her back until then. Hanging limply from her clutch was a raggedy doll that seemed to be 50 years old. The left arm, however, was unattached, resting in Haley's left hand.

"The nice lady with fire hair gave it me dolly but it broke. Now me sad." Haley pouted her lip. Hermione shook her head, quite confused. Haley wasn't physically hurt?

She recognized the doll, it had once been the youngest Weasley's. "Ginny!" she called. Quickly the young engaged ginger scurried in. "Come here please," she whispered.

"What is it ?" Ginny Weasley asked, bending down to eye level with her best friend. Hermione bent into Ginny's ear so Haley wouldn't hear.

"Does she," she motioned to Haley, "have any injuries or recollections about what happened?" she asked. If Haley didn't remember anything, Hermione wouldn't have to worry as much. Of course she'd still have to explain to Draco what happened. Her guilt could not keep her in the clear.

Ginny shook her head. "When we got her from you, she was still sleeping. There were quite a few cuts and bruises on her, but she didn't wake up until after the Healer treated her. Is that Malfoy's daughter?" she asked curiously. Hermione nodded in response.

"So, she knows nothing?" Hermione double-checked. Ginny nodded.

"Nothing."

"And soutenu! Good job, Haley!" Hermione cheered from the small lounge seat. She was going over the combination she had taught in class. Haley had caught on quickly and had a great memory. Hermione felt her eyes well up. Ever since she had returned from the temporary hospital, she wanted to cry after being through such an ordeal. However with Haley around 24/7, there was no possible way that she could.

"Thanks Mummy!" Haley smiled, twirling and then jumping into the air excitedly. Hermione sighed and glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. Draco had been scheduled to return at 12, and she was anxious.

"Now Haley," she started. "Your father will be home soon. You can't call me Mummy any more, I'm Miss Hermione again, okay?" Haley, tired from the simple routine, gave a strained nod.

11:55 read the clock. Hermione bubbled her lips. She didn't know what else to do with a four year old girl. In almost lightening time, she remembered something.

"Haley, do you want to go up?" she asked, standing up slowly and bending over to eye-to-eye view with her. The Malfoy daughter widened her eyes and smiled with her mouth open, hopping up and down.

"Yah, yah, yah, yah!" she exclaimed, bending over. Hermione, using strength from her right knee, lifting the little girl up. She sped around the house, zooming her around and around. Haley squealed in delight, pretending to be a broom.

Draco stood outside of his cottage when he heard the familiar sounds of Haley's excited squeaks. He was about to grab the knob and open the door when he stopped and instead crept over to the window. Through the kitchen window, he spotted Haley in the air, hoisted by...Granger?

_Wow,_ he thought, _she's actually doing a good job._

As if he was in a trance, Draco kept his eyes stuck on Hermione and his daughter. At first he was watching Haley spinning in circles. Yet by the time she had landed onto the ground, his eyes had travelled to Granger and her eyes. Her eyes held tears not shed, but happy while watching his daughter.

He observed her for 10 minutes, glancing up and down her body. It wasn't until the curiosity of the brace on her knee that took him back to the door. He hadn't remembered her wearing that before...what happened?

Not even knocking (it was his own house) Draco barged in. He stalked in to see Hermione giving Haley an Eskimo kiss.

"Ahem." he said and Hermione immediately stood up, blushing deeply.

"Oh, Malfoy, you're here." she said, looking at her hands. She felt incredibly guilty for being caught in the act of showing maternal love to _his_ daughter. He merely grunted. "I guess I'll go now-" she started to leave when Draco stopped her in her tracks.

"Actually if you don't mind, I'd like to have a chat first." Draco said, gesturing to the stairs. "If you'll come with me to the study..." He didn't wait for her to say no, he just started going up the case. Hermione told Haley to practice the dance again and she'd see her the next day.

Upon reaching the study, Hermione caught Draco staring out the window. A far off look in his eyes shot bullets through her chest. He watched her face in the reflection of the window before turning around.

"What happened to your knee?" he asked, placing his hands into his front pockets.

Hermione's eyebrows shot straight up. "You didn't hear?" she asked. Draco shook his head. "You were in London, right?" he nodded. "And you still didn't hear." Again, he shook his head. "There was an attack. A Death Eater attack." she added.

Draco's eyes grew twice its size. "But there aren't any more! How-? Where-? But-" He couldn't finish any of those sentences.

Hermione just shook her head. "I know, I know. I couldn't believe it either, but I saw it with my own eyes. It was on the coast, by the London Eye, which now lies in the banks." She waited for him to say something, but Draco seemed too in shock to utter anything else. "I – Haley and I got caught in the attack. A wall exploded behind us and I fell, popping out my knee," she said pointing to her knee. "Eventually I was Stupified and woke up in an old building. My friends were there.." Hermione bit her lip, contemplating whether or not to tell Draco about what Kingsley told her. "Haley doesn't know anything." she added when she saw the worried look in his eyes.

Draco didn't say anything about Haley though. He was focusing on Hermione. "Are _you_ alright?" he asked, looking at her forehead. He couldn't meet her eyes when she was looking back. He just couldn't.

Taken aback by the question, Hermione twisted her hands uncomfortably. "I could be better," her voice was strained though, because of the tears burrowed in the back of her eyes.

The air in the room became tight and almost non-existent. Hermione could hardly breathe. She glanced down at her shoes as she felt the tears threatened to bear.

"Cry."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking back up to meet Draco's gaze.

"Cry." he reiterated. "You'll feel better. I can see that you're holding it back. I've returned, you don't need to take care of Haley any longer. Cry."

Hermione crossed her arms. "I most certainly will not! I will not listen to you, you won't tell _me_ what to do!" Her voice got caught however and her face became small. The tears could not be held back any longer. "I'll cry because I want to." Salty tears began to pour out Hermione's chocolate eyes and she couldn't hold it back. She cupped her mouth with her hand as her sobs echoed in the small room.

Almost on impact, Draco slowly made his way forward towards the crying Muggle-born in his house. He could not believe everything that had happened already, and he felt bad for Hermione, he did. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he felt bad for her.

Draco took his long arms and wrapped them around her small frame. She stood tiny compared to his timbering height. He pulled her face close into his chest, and let her tears stain his suit. He didn't care however. Hermione needed to cry, and he was there to be a comforter, whether pureblood or not.

**A/N: Gosh you guys, I really hope you liked this chapter. I hope it isn't OOC. I tried really hard not to. But you know, the character _are_ 24 now, they may act stranger :)**

**In reply to GoldenPheasant: I was in Finian's Rainbow :) I was Silent Susie! It was lots of fun!**

**And also:**

**Willowpelt12: Your review made my day. I had to share it with my friend and she was like, "That's the kind of review that makes you want to jump up and down and get up in the morning to write more to get more reviews like that." So thank you sooooo much!**

**Please everyone Review, I love it dearly! Also Favourite and Follow, those mean a lot to me.**

**If you loved this chapter, which you probably did, tell me how much in a Review! I love to hear everyone's comments :)**

**P.S. This is the longest chapter yet!  
**


	11. Why Must We Fight?

**A/N: Ah! So many lovely Reviews that I loved! I'm so happy that you all loved that last chapter! It means everything to me!**

**This chapter is the very first (I'm pretty sure) where it is only Draco/Hermione with Haley. So if it ever seems boring with just the three characters, I'm sorry! I really like this chapter though, so hopefully you will too! Chapter title comes from the song, "Tell Me Why" by Pod.**

Sooner rather than later Hermione pulled herself together. Draco didn't say anything as she heaved in the corner of the room. He had let go of her after five minutes of holding her tight and she had gravitated to the corner to calm herself. To distract himself, Draco had thought about everything she had told him. He could tell she was holding back telling him things but he understood. He _was_ a former Death Eater after all.

"I-I should be going now," Hermione sniffed, heading to the door. However Draco stopped her in her tracks.

"You said Haley doesn't know anything about what happened? How is that possible?" he questioned. "You didn't leave her alone did you?" Draco crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows.

Hermione looked taken aback by the random question. "Um," she started and wiped her face under her eyes. "She was sort of asleep in my arms the entire time."

Draco's eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly. "She didn't wake up?" Hermione nodded her head. Draco ran his hand over his face and realised how sweaty he had become. "Didn't she moan, groan or cry in her sleep?" he guessed. Again, Hermione answered with her head, by shaking it this time.

"Is something the matter?" Hermione asked, noticing Draco's current condition. "Did I do something wrong? If I did I greatly apologise Malfoy, I didn't mean to, I -"

But before she could go on, Draco cut her off. "It's nothing you did, calm down!" He said quite loudly. "Or, maybe it is something you did, I'm not sure, it's just-" Draco groaned stressfully. "As I told you yesterday before I left, Haley doesn't sleep very well. She hasn't for a long time. She never would have slept through that..." He drifted off, looking up at the ceiling in distress. "I just don't understand it!"

"Maybe she's growing out of it-" Hermione suggested, but the moment she talked Draco's eyes met hers.

"No, she hasn't." He insisted. "You've never seen her before, you can't just grow out of it in one day. Especially two nights ago. It was difficult to watch..." Draco now started to get worked up inside but didn't let it show.

The room became silent quickly and Draco shook his head, trying to think through his thoughts. He listened quietly for a moment until there was nothing to hear. "You can leave now you know," he whispered to Hermione, reaching for the doorknob. He opened it up for her, a lead like feeling dropping down to his stomach.

She snapped out of what seemed like a trance and just nodded. Hurrying out of the room and down the stairs, Hermione was trailed by Draco, who merely sauntered down the stairs. "Haley, say goodbye to Miss-" he started but stopped when he recognised the tossing and turning body laying on the settee.

Almost as if hopping, Draco made his way over to the settee and peered over. "Come look," he motioned to Hermione. She slowly followed and looked to where Draco was pointing. Haley had a hurt look on her face and tears were falling down her face. One of her hands lay in between her legs and the other was on her opposite shoulder. She turned and turned, moaning and groaning. It was one of the most horrifyingly scaring images she'd seen on a child. It was as if the entire world had turned Dark and melted itself into Haley's emotions, affecting her greatly.

"This is...this is what happens every night?" she asked, completely appalled. Draco nodded, watching his hurting daughter. "Why?" she asked curiously.

Draco glanced up and sneered slightly. "Like I'd ever tell you." It was almost as if the past few moments hadn't even happened. That Hermione hadn't protected his daughter from getting hurt,and that he hadn't comforted her moments ago. It was as if modern Draco had transformed back into school Draco.

He coughed slightly and looked away before turning back to face Hermione. "I'm sorry," he apologised for his outburst. "It's a touchy subject."

Hermione shook her head, her eyes not leaving Haley. "No, it's fine, I shouldn't have asked. I'm much too nosy for my own good." Habitually, she leaned down and brushed her fingers against Haley's forehead, and then twirled a piece of her blonde hair around her pointer finger.

A sudden hazy feeling filled the room and hung like cigar smoke in an old sepia photograph. Haley ceased the roll and groan, and smiled lightly. Her breathing evened and she seemed to look like a calm child resting during a full-mooned summer night. The room became silent and both Hermione and Draco had the same thoughts flurrying inside their heads.

Ever so slowly and gently, as to not wake the sleeping angel, Hermione pulled her hand away. The tight air in the room relaxed, but Haley didn't. She went back to her stressful dream, emotionally scarring her each second that passed.

This time Draco reached out his hand and repeated the action Hermione performed.

Nothing.

Not a move differed. Haley continued to move in a way that broke Draco's heart. His face fell and he jumped, pulling away his hand. This wasn't what it was supposed to be like, Haley was his daughter, not Hermione's. He knew her longer, he loved her more. Something wasn't adding up.

Gracefully he climbed over the back of the settee and sat with his legs down, and back straight. Through the years of being a father and softening on he inside, it still hadn't changed his tough and straight-lined exterior. He leaned to his side and cradled Haley in his arms. Nothing. He felt his heartstrings tug and feel jealous of Granger. What did she have that he didn't?

"This is wrong, what is wrong?" Draco mumbled, looking into Haley's hurt face. "What am I doing wrong?" It was a rhetorical question. Hermione just stood there, watching and observing. She didn't know whether or not if he wanted her to leave, or if she physically could.

Hermione knew not to take Haley from Draco's arms and calm her, as it may spark jealousy between them. Sans Haley's achy noises, the room had become just like the inside of an old black and white silent film. The world had shrunk into one tiny sitting room, to one small settee, to the mind of a sleeping four year old girl.

"I haven't used the toilet in over 24 hours," Hermione started. Draco turned his head around, shifting his body slightly. "I never wanted to leave your daughter out of sight, I was scared, even before I knew Death Eaters were still around, of losing her and you never trusting me again. Haley is an extraordinary and brilliant young girl who has a passion for dance. I hope you forgive me for all that has happened in your absence." she spilled. There was a long pause as if Draco was considering how to break it to Hermione that he wished to scream and yell at her.

"I have forgiven you, I am just glad Haley doesn't remember anything." Draco said, glancing down at his beautiful daughter. The dreams had halted for a moment when Hermione had her spiel. However the moment he talked she resumed tossing and turning in his strong arms. "You can use the toilet by the kitchen," Draco said, motioning somewhere behind himself.

Hermione nodded and hurried out to leave Draco alone with his waking daughter. The last minutes of Haley's nightmares were always the worst, she cried the most then. Immediately she woke up, panting and crying. "Daddy..." Haley whined and Draco pulled her close, letting her weep on his shoulder. "They want me..." she cried.

Draco tried to hold his composure back while consoling his daughter. "I know they do...It's all over now...It's all over." he whispered gently to her. He pat her back, and bounced her like he used to when she was an infant. It was true, the saying about daddy's girls. Haley certainly was one. And Draco didn't mind at all.

There came a loud flush and some water running from the opposite room. Soon Hermione's body materialized. She had simply returned to tell Draco she was leaving, nothing more. "Malfoy, I-" she stopped when she recognised Haley awake.

"Mummy..." she cried out tearfully, reaching a hand out to Hermione.

Draco's head shot around. His eyes stared her down so intensely he could have boiled her blood. "Haley, go to your room." He commanded instantly.

Like a good little girl, Haley jumped from her father's arms and hurried up the stares, her tear-fallen face clearing up already. Draco cast a quick, "_Muffliato_" on his daughter's room and then turned his attention back to Hermione. "MUMMY?" he yelled.

"I-" Hermione started but Draco interrupted her.

"Did you let her call you her mother?" He asked, his voice not changing in volume. Hermione looked down into her hands shamefully. "Answer me, bitch!" She nodded and become surprised that no tears threatened to leak down her face. "Merlin, why?" Draco yelled. "You're aren't her mother, she has bad experiences with mothers, why would you?"

Hermione butt in almost immediately with the answer that had been waiting on her tongue. "She asked me to!" She exclaimed back with almost the same force and nature. "She called me Mummy first, and I corrected her! She said my name was too hard to say and that she saw me as her mother!"

The last bit was enough to get Draco over the edge. Enraged, he turned and pulled on the back of the settee. It tilted off of its front legs and fell back on its frame. "No, you aren't her mother, you will never be her mother! I am her care giver, I am her only parent now, and you, you! a dirty Mudblood , are not going to get in my way!"

"You're a selfish hog of a father!" Hermione spat back. "You don't understand that Haley, being the young girl that she is, needs a maternal figure in her life. You're jealous that Haley has become attached to me so quickly!"

"Me?" Draco questioned. "You aren't even her real mum! You've known her for what, going on two months? If you were so intrigued by her, why did you never ask me who her mum was, or _why_ she acts the way she does."

Hermione wanted to throw her arms in the air and hex him then. "I _have_ asked. When we reunited and the whole ordeal happened when I prepared Haley for class, I asked you. However whenever I brought it up you got defensive and didn't answer, in fact, you just did less than five minutes ago! Did you forget that? Or has your job of overprotective father overcome your ability to process adult conversations?"

"I doubt you have any right sense, Granger." Draco scoffed, completely overtaken by her sharp annunciations that he lost any recognition of what she had said.

"Back to Granger now are we?" She asked. "What, is Mudblood getting a bit overused? MUDBLOOD MUDBLOOD MUDBLOOD! MUDBLOOD GRANGER, STUPID ANNOYING PRAT!"

Draco's face fell and he sighed, rubbing his face with his rough hands. "Don't call yourself that..." he mumbled after a moment, completely upset with himself and the young woman standing before him.

"Why?" Hermione yelled. She clearly wasn't finished arguing. "You didn't have a problem calling me that a second ago!" She was steamed now, her arms at her side and her fists closed with such force her left hand (the one minus her wand) currently was being branded with nail marks. Her face, albeit flushed and crinkled in anger, stayed dry.

"I didn't mean to – I mean, I didn't want to – I just – It sort of slipped out. I was angry. I don't think that about you." Draco said, his voice slowly regaining volume. He wasn't yelling, just speaking loud enough to be heard with straining one's ears.

"You did." Hermione countered back. "Opinions can't change that quickly."

"I did I will admit," Draco confessed, giving a long sigh. "But someone can change that quickly. I did. However it didn't happen over night. I had grown up, 17 years of thinking that Purebloods were above all, especially Muggle-borns, and they were equal to trash and well, mud." He gave a slight cough. "Going through what I have, blood doesn't seem to matter any more, unless it's in you, keeping you alive and pumping one more day."

With a long stare, Hermione finally answered back. "And what exactly have you gone through?" she asked curiously. Draco's face gave a smallish look as he gave a slightly apologetic look.

Nervously, Draco ran his hand through his hair. "I hate to say this, but I can't tell you. Not yet any way. I'm not in the mood or state to mention the details for a while." He said politely.

"There you go again!" Hermione exclaimed, completely astonished. "You tell me to ask, I do, and when I do you say that you can't or won't talk about it!"

Draco scratched his head wondrously. "How did this topic change so suddenly?" He asked in awe. "I'm still angry about my daughter calling you her mother." He crossed his arms and went to lean up against the settee but found himself in mid-fall. _Oh yes,_ he thought, _My anger did that. _He glanced down at the sofa that had turned 90 degrees and reached for his wand. With one flick it was back and on all four legs again.

Crossing her arms in a similar matter to Draco, Hermione breathed out a sigh. "I'm sorry but she was persistent. I told her 'no' many times, but she wouldn't listen, Malfoy. Trust me when I say I never would have agreed unless she brought it up first."

"I still don't like that you let her do that. I don't want her confused. She has too many memories and thoughts for a four year old. I know that sounds cryptic, Granger, but when you finally understand, it'll make sense to you." Draco explained before realising his mistake.

"So," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You plan on telling me, huh?" she laughed lightly.

Draco merely shook his head and gave a polite laugh in response. "We'll see." He answered.

The room became silent quickly and the pair simultaneously stared at their own feet. Hermione bore the same clothing from the day before and she almost panicked at the sight until she remembered the nifty spell she had charmed on herself. On her feet she wore grey boots that she had hidden, tucked away in her closet until the day before when she struggled to shove them on. Draco had on a pair of Muggle jeans and a blue button-up. He must've been in Muggle neighbourhood for his work meeting. Donning his feet were only socks and Hermione didn't realise he had removed whatever shoes he was wearing upon his arrival home.

"I told Haley that she could only call me Mummy for the weekend. Before you arrived I asked her politely if she could stop. When she fell asleep and woke up, it must've slipped her mind, sleep does that to a person." Hermione explained, breaking the well-needed silence.

Draco didn't respond. This prompted the former Gryffindor witch to say more. "I have an idea," she started. He lifted an eyebrow to show interest. "When Haley sleeps, let me calm her down. Gradually throughout the days, you and I shall calm her down at the same time and then eventually I will move my hand. I want you and Haley to have that bond, and I want her to get better."

The Malfoy heir nodded. "I know what you mean, at St. Mungo's, when a patient is getting a new Healer, we go through the same process so it isn't a huge change for the sick patient." Draco explained, having done that process before. He was the incoming Healer for Aaron Ryder, and knew from experience how difficult doing this could be. It could result in two successful or strained relationships. "But I could never ask you to do that. You're already helping with Haley for dance, in class and you watched her for the weekend. I have to pay you back first."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you want to pay a Mudblood back for something?" she asked.

"Muggle-born." Draco corrected. "And I don't find you any lower in status than myself any more. Whether you know it or not, Purebloods are raised up to have kind manners and treat people as they wish to be treated."

"The Golden Rule?" Hermione asked, quite surprised. Draco seemed confused and she shook her head. "Muggle thing."

"Oh, well," Draco continued, "My mother always taught me to pay back someone for their services with a service of my own." He said, brushing some of his thin blonde hair out of his eyes. "You are no exception."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well what 'service' are you going to give me?" she asked. "Another free visit to your toilet?" she asked.

Draco shook his head and gave a slight laugh. "No, but I can see your faith in me," he said sarcastically. "I don't know what yet, but it will be good." He made his way over to the bottom of the staircase and tilted his head back for a moment. "Haley, come say goodbye!" he called up.

Nothing.

"Oh, I forgot the spell," Draco muttered to himself and pulled out his wand from his pocket. Apparently throughout him and Granger's heated argument, his hawthorn wand found its way back into its home. He pointed his wand in direction of the room and called again. "Haley, Miss Hermione is leaving, come say goodbye until Monday."

Haley Malfoy sped out of her room like an Olympic racer and jumped on the third step into her father's arms. Draco kissed Haley on her head, breathing in her hair. She was so small and fragile and...dirty. He definitely needed to wash her that night.

Hesitantly, Draco set her down lightly and she ran over to Hermione, hugging her legs. "Bye, Miss Hermy, I see you Monday."

Patting her head, Hermione nodded. "Yes you will and we'll be starting a dance, isn't that exciting?" Haley jumped up and down in excitement and nodded happily. "Make sure to get lots of sleep, okay?" She emphasized this more to Malfoy, and he bit his lip.

"I have to work a long shift Monday and my mother won't be available, so I'll be a bit late picking Haley up from dance class." Draco explained. Hermione nodded understandingly. "I just thought I would tell you."

"It's always nice to know." She said with a smile. "Goodbye Haley," she stared long and hard back down at the beautiful young girl. "Goodbye, Malfoy," Hermione whispered half-heartedly, only just glancing up at Draco.

Before anything else could happen, she hurried out of the house. She needed to work on the dance to teach multiple classes the next week. But also because the fact that Malfoy had smiled, laughed, and held a normal conversation with her scared her immensely more than she had anticipated.

The world must've been ending. And with the Death Eaters around, it might just be.

**A/N: I hope you all read the A/Ns. They are important...**

**Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it! And I would love it if as a Thanksgiving gift (do they do that?) to Favourite, Follow and Review, oh please Review!**

**Willowpelt12, your Review was absolutely fantastic and I now love you forever.**

**So everyone have a wonderful holiday and please Review for the sake of thanks! **


	12. Suddenly My Eyes Are Open

**A/N: I AM BACK! With a new chapter! I feel bad that there hasn't been MUCH Dramione (like hints of affection and such) besides the crying scene. So I hope for all of you who want more romantic tension, that you love this chapter!**

**The title comes from the song, "Illuminated" by Hurts.**

Hermione bent over and retied her pointe shoe ribbons. This was going to be the last dance she choreographed for the morning before Monday classes started, and she was anxious to relax for a few hours before her first class, Haley's. Her knee, like she predicted, hurt a great deal. She attempted several Muggle pain healers and tried a few magical solutions and bubble baths but nothing seemed to work. The pain didn't want to leave which had resulted in quite a few restless nights. Last night Hermione took a Dreamless Sleeping Draught that seemed to do the trick. If the pain didn't cease, she planned on repeating that cure.

The slow, melodic instrumental song began to play and thoughts of sleep and knees drifted away like the waltz at the beginning of the dance. Throughout the dance held multiple chassés into en dedan double pirouettes, glissades, and por de bras en pointe in sous sous. The dance was extremely complicated and was intended for the senior dancers at the studio to perform at the winter recital. The dance finished with seven exact and perfect fouetté turns, landing in a pliéd fourth position.

Hermione grunted as she struggled with the seven fouettés. They were on the right side which meant her left leg was working the hardest. By the fourth one her knee gave out and she fell with a giant thud onto the floor. "Damn it..." she muttered and picked herself up, brushing the dirt and sparkles off her tights around her thighs.

In a final attempt, Hermione pliéd a deep fourth position and had the ability to produce the final three fouettés before she fell. A pang of pain shot through her leg like a bullet and she pulled her leg close to her body, breathing in and out slowly as tears welled in her eyes. She had experienced dance related injuries before and overcame them, but there was something strange about her knee. Perhaps the fact that he kneecap actually popped out was the case. Whatever it was created frustration for Hermione, as well as pain.

"Lacey!" she called out, her friend's name however, sounded like jumbles through her strained breath and unravelling tears. When her best friend did not hurry, Hermione called even louder. "Lacey Ann Marie Morgan Eponine Lisa Lammell!" By 'Morgan' Lacey had sped into the studio, hardly making it past the doorway when she spotted Hermione and sighed.

"You know I don't like you using my entire name," she huffed. "What do you need?" she asked like a good servant girl. Her attitude changed though when she noticed the silver tears falling.

Hermione felt a bit guilty for disrupting whatever Lacey had been in the middle of, but she couldn't muster the energy to stand. "Would you hate it so much to get me some ice?"

"I still cannot believe that was you," Lacey marvelled at a moving picture in Hermione's office. Picture Hermione was busy performing an abundance of fouetté turns on an American stage. "You picked ballet up so quickly."

In the corner of the room, Hermione was currently soaking her knee up to the brim with icy water. It stung the floor burn but at the same time it felt immensely good on her bone. She purred with pleasure for a moment, but stopped, her face turning a deep tomato red. "Um, yeah, well I had done ballet prior to then. The small Company I found was glad to take me in. It was quite an adventure. Plus everyone in America fanned over my accent."

Lacey raised her eyebrows and gave a smirk. "Were they like me when I first arrived in London?" she asked curiously. Lacey had been a bumble of excitement and had the classical tourist look when the natives spoke. That was, of course, once she had gotten to know Hermione and learned they had a similar knack in, well, magic. Then Lacey let her true self shine and became an accent magnet. Once she even tried duplicating Hermione's posh London accent, which ended up sounding like, "Oh, pip pip, cheerio! I'd fancy a spot of tea and a crumpet please! God save the Queen!" Let's just saying Hermione forbid any more impersonations after that.

Hermione gave a long nod, her eyes practically bulging. "Very much. It was quite overwhelming. There was one other Brit, but she was from Yorkshire, and captivated everyone once she actually spoke." She remembered the girl well. She would compare her to young Evangeline, quiet and timid at first, like a scared field mouse, but after a short period of time became a talking and sporadic hyena on high. It was nice to have someone to relate to there, especially when Americans began speaking in their lingo she didn't understand.

"I probably would've loved to meet her," Lacey smiled with a glint in her eye. Her eyes drifted to other locomotive photographs, biting her lip slightly. It was hard to see photos of her best friend dancing so fluently and seamlessly in comparison to her crumbling body now. Dance was breaking her and tearing her apart limb by limb, yet she continued, determined. Brave, determined, sweet to Haley, and a complete genius, she fit into every Hogwarts House easily.

Hermione leaned over and rubbed her knee slightly. It swelled subtly in the time between falling and the present. It stung like a million needles piercing slightly through her epidermis. She breathed in slowly and breathed out in jagged exhales.

"What is your plan for class?" Lacey asked curiously. "Your first one starts in only a half hour." She reminded, turning to face the top of her friend's head. Before she could observe the tight, short curls on the top of Hermione's noggin, her face shot up in horror.

With a hurried look, she attempted to stand, failed, and fell back on her bottom. "Merlin, Haley!" Sucking it up, Hermione pulled herself up and onto her hurt leg before rushing out of her office. After a good five strides a wave of pain shot up her leg once more and she tumbled to the ground, barely brazing her knee against the black harlequin flooring. "Bloody hell!" she echoed her old friend's catchphrase. Lacey hurried to her side.

"Why don't you try the Floo?" she suggested, pointing in the direction of the hidden Floo in the gymnasium. Hermione shook her head, it was too far of a walk, and it lived on the second floor.

Pulling herself up onto her elbows, Hermione pointed to her office. "Fetch the old ribbon on the filing cabinet, please." She commanded politely. As assistant, secretary and best friend, Lacey obeyed as usual. When she returned with the slightly burned ribbon, Hermione snatched it from her clutches. "_Portus_." She whispered, pointing her wand at it's centre. It gleamed a light blue for a moment and Hermione reached for the ribbon. "I'll return soon," she promised Lacey before a familiar feeling hooked itself in her naval, and she was gone.

Being one of many members of the Light side in the help to defeat Voldemort, gave Hermione many advantages, like being allowed to create unauthorised Portkeys. It helped it situations as such, when Hermione didn't have time to go to the Ministry.

"Umph!" She grunted, landing at Draco's door. It didn't help her current problem as she was still facing the ground, lying on her stomach. "Malfoy!"she called, attempting to capture his attention to open the door. "Malfoy!" From the ground she could see into the window slightly. Peering her eyes, she could make out the tips of Malfoy's snowy blonde hair. It contrasted against the house's dark blue exterior.

Still, he didn't come to the door. Ever so often his hair would disappear and then returned, and Hermione could see Haley's bopping head. Draco's arms would swing up, gripping Haley beneath her underarms, and then down again, and up and down once more. Haley's face gave the look of a giggle, and Hermione found herself transfixed. It took a good three minutes to recall why she was even laying in front of Malfoy's cottage door.

However when Hermione did, she reached out with her right hand, and gave four quick, pounding knocks.

As if waiting for her the entire time, Malfoy swung open the door. He had a small scowl on his face, as if he were going to throw some disgusting remark on how she was later than usual, and what had happened to her 'Gryffindor punctuality' until his eyes took in her state.

"What are you doing in the ground?" he asked, quickly opening the screen bug door. "Come in." Hermione groaned on the ground, and embarrassingly mumbled something in her hands. "Can't you get up?" he asked, crouching down to her eye level.

Hermione gave a quick shake of her head and shamefully tried to meet Draco's gaze. "My knee is acting up, I sort of fell on it today. I can't move it."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and whipped out his wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa._" He muttered and twisted his wand to rotate Hermione into an upright position. "Really Granger, I would've expected you thought of this. It was the first spell we learned."

Completely mortified of her over-look, Hermione drifted her eyes away from Draco as he manoeuvred her to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. A single flick of his wand and gravity affected her again, slamming down into the chair rather forcefully due to science. "I seemed to have forgotten. I've been rather busy."

Draco gave a curt nod towards her inflamed knee. "I see," he said thoughtfully. His face gave a pensive look as he started rummaging through his drawers. "Never thought I'd see the day when the Gryffindor Princess _forgot _something she learned in school." Although it was a rather rude comment, his tone wasn't. It was almost as if Draco wasn't thinking what he was saying, simply forming sentences with his brain and letting them out of his mouth, while his eyes and mind kept focussed on something entirely different.

"What are you doing?" Hermione observed, scrunching her eyebrows together. "What goodness are you doing raiding your own kitchen?" she asked.

Draco desperately wanted to shoot some type of insult back at her but a stronger part of him urged himself to keep searching until...aha!

"Let me help you," he said suddenly. "Your knee, of course."

"My knee?" Hermione asked in amazement, looking down at herself. The swelling wasn't going down, and the Portkey seemed to have agitated it more. Her knees had always been a sensitive region for her, and partially it was due to falling often as a young child. She once fell from a window, which contributed to her fear of heights.

Malfoy was paging through a book entitled, "Bones and Muscles Vol 3: Legs." He gave a nod and crouched down once again to view her knee. "I am a Healer after all. I'm paying you to teach my daughter how to dance and you can't quite do that if you're injured, correct?" Hermione couldn't breath, she just took a deep, shaky breath and nodded her, 'yes.'

"It's going to hurt, isn't it?" She asked, cringing her face in advance.

"Like a ton of bricks are squeezing your kneecap together." Draco said, blatantly honest and with a smidgen of humour. "Where's that Gryffindor bravery?" he questioned curiously, standing up to retrieve a packet of frozen veggies from the icebox.

Hermione gave an exasperated groan. "It fled after the war; along with my sanity." The last part was barely a whisper, hardly audible, but Draco caught the words like a hooked fish by the shell of his ear.

The cool package froze the tips of his fingers like icicle points. Draco removed his wand and cast a simple Sticking charm on the bottom. Removing the knee brace and rolling up one leg of her tights, he replaced it with the frozen vegetables. Hermione felt instant relief mixed with a shiver that raced up and down her spine. "Why are you doing this?" She asked, wringing the brace between her hands.

"I told you, if you're going to teach Haley, you-"

"That's a pseudo-reason!" She exclaimed, throwing down the brace. At Haley's name, Hermione immediately noticed her absence. Where was the small Malfoy child? She had been there almost a moment ago, but once she sat down, Haley had disappeared.

Draco dropped his hand and it clattered against the laminate floor. "You can hardly walk, is _that_ a good enough reason for you? I could be rude, and not help you and force the Gryffindor Princess go to St. Mungo's, where this old remedy isn't used. If I don't help you, your knee could have permanent damage."

"But why me?" Hermione urged. She bit her lip and continued a bit more. "Why the Mudblood?"

Draco just about had a cow. He threw his hands into the air and it looked as if he were about to smack them down onto Hermione's face. Instead they fell to the ground and his right hand gripped his wand. "Don't call yourself that, it's a horrible name!" he exclaimed angrily, not even looking Hermione in the eyes. Instead he was relocating his page which was lost in the jumble of falling hands. "I will _not _be having this conversation again. I want to help you, okay? Is that too hard of a concept to wrap around your head? This is part one of services I'm doing to repay you, understand?" Draco spoke to her softly, memorising a small incantation.

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child," Hermione grumbled, folding her arms. She faced away from Draco, but took glimpses of his hands. Large, rough, and intricate, yet showing tenderness on the back, with wide veins popping slightly from concentration. They were actually quite beautiful, for man's hands, or hands in general. The rough tips gently wavered atop Hermione's porcelain skin. It created tiny goose-pimples along her thigh. Silently Hermione thanked her past self for remembering to shave her legs the night before. Nothing would have been more humiliating than to have Draco be tending to her knee while it was coated in black hairs.

Draco was taken aback by her offence, and raised his eyebrows kindly in a sense of apology. "Guess I'm used to talking to a four year old..." He thought aloud.

"Guess so." Hermione whispered, looking into the direction of the sitting room. A familiar wave of air wrapped around her knee as Draco swished his wand, and she readied herself for the pain.

But it didn't come.

"You lied to me," She realised, turning her attention back to Malfoy. He was now standing up, and Hermione's knee was close to perfect once more.

"So I did." Draco said, smirking a little bit at his clever conniving. Pure Slytherin. "But it feels better, doesn't it?"

Hermione nodded blankly, and rolled her tights back down to around her ankle. She reached for the knee brace and waited for Draco to stop her. He didn't, and she sighed, fastened the Velcro. "Where's Haley, we really must be on our way." She inquired, standing up. Draco had turned around to replace the book in the shelf, and had rotated again to face back to Hermione at the same instant.

The air became uncomfortably tight and Draco glanced down at Hermione the exact moment she looked at him. Their lips, quite a ways apart, although it felt like centimetres, were both parted a small percentage and their warm breaths liquefied each other's faces. For a moment, Draco's stomach felt like it were about to jump out our his abdomen, while Hermione's rapidly beating heart felt lodged in her throat.

For a moment, the world wasn't spinning. For a moment, time had stopped. For a moment, a moment wasn't long enough.

"She went to get her clothes – Haley!" Draco called, his eyes still locked on Hermione's. With one swift movement, her leaned over a bit and grazed his lips on her cheek, hardly meeting her skin. "Thank you."

Why he said thank you, Draco didn't know. Neither did Hermione.

The longest staring contest was eventually broken by Haley's rattling footfalls. Draco shook his head and Hermione's cheeks burned bright red.

Once fully dressed and hand gripped protectively by Hermione, Haley waved goodbye to her father before heading to the door.

"Don't forget," Draco called to Hermione. She whipped her head towards his voice while holding one hand on the door handle. "I'll be there late to pick Haley up."

Hermione flashed a smile as if the past 10 minutes hadn't happened. "Don't worry, I remembered."

"I just don't get it!" Haley sighed, trying to figure out the combination for the last five minutes. "It's too much!"

Hermione tried to give a supportive smile but on the inside she was frustrated. The dance, to her, was made of the utmost simplicity. Plié, plié, soutenu, first arabesque to the right and then to the left, and one more soutenu and plié. The end.

"What part are you getting confused on, honey?" Hermione asked, holding Haley by her petite shoulders. "The soutenu?"

Haley shook her head and put her arms out in a v-position and pointed her foot to the back. "The arabesque?" Hermione guessed. Haley gave a small, sheepish nod. "Oh honey," Hermione smiled, her shrunken teeth in a wide grin. "You got it right there!" she said, happily clapping.

The young girl's eyes brightened. "I did?" she asked. Hermione nodded and stood back up.

"Again everyone, let's try that combination again, shall we?" She reached over and began the music. Evangeline and Haley, standing by each other, mirrored the other's movements like two dancing dolls that were wound up together. The slow, two eight-count combination made Hermione giddy in the process she had gotten through so far with the young dancers.

Maybe she was meant to be a dance teacher after all. All that had happened with Voldemort was enough Auror-ness for her. Normality was more relaxing than she thought. A nice change of pace, and maybe her seven years were up.

Draco clocked out, and bid fellow Healers goodbye. "You'll be back at four, won't you Draco?" asked a young woman by the name of Healer Heisler.

"What's at four?" he asked her while attempting to slide on his jumper. This was the first time he had heard of anything about four, and while he _was_ a committed Healer, unexpected shifts weren't really his thing.

"Healer Patrick's last shift ever. We're having a going away party. I expected you'd be there, wasn't he sort of your mentor?" Healer Heisler (whose first name was Rachael) asked, crossing her arms in wonder.

Draco gave a nod and an exhausted sigh. "I'll be there. I just need to have my mum watch Haley for me."

Rachael gave a small nod and bit her lip gently. "Listen, Draco," she started, and Malfoy raised his eyebrows and gave his attention to her. "I was thinking, if you weren't busy sometime, we could go out for dinner? I noticed on your schedule you aren't doing anything Saturday..."

Draco was quiet and Rachael's eyes suddenly grew. "Oh, not that I'm a creeper or anything, I just happened to look and now I'm rambling and this is getting _so _out of hand and why can't I stop? I just mean, do you want to go out on a date with me, even though girls aren't supposed to ask, but I thought 'fuck with rules, I'm independent.'" She groaned. "Now you probably think I'm not classy and trashy since I just said 'fuck with rules.' Oh, I just did it again, I'm so sorry, I-"

"You can stop." Draco said, giving a small laugh. Rachael closed her mouth and blushed, quite embarrassed by her actions. "That sounds really nice, it does, Rachael."

"But..." She started the sentence for him. Draco actually felt pity for her. She was probably used to being rejected and knowing when to begin with 'but.' Part of him wished that the second half of his answer didn't exist, she was quite a pretty girl. Long, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes hidden behind glasses, and had a curvy body.

"But when I'm not at work, I'm at home with Haley, and I just can't do something extra for me, like go on a date. It sounded fun though, truly." He answered with complete sincerity.

Rachael looked somewhat hurt but also understanding. "I get it, I have to care for my nephew sometimes and he's a real hassle." After a long pause she bit her bottom lip and added a bit more. "Is there another girl?"

Draco didn't answer right away. It wasn't that there was, it was that he was debating whether or not Granger would be considered 'another girl.' His mother and Granger were the only two females outside of work he saw at least once a week. He could lie, and say that there wasn't another girl, or he could lie and say there was. He chose not to speak at all.

"Oh." Was all that came out of Rachael's mouth. "See you at four." She muttered half-heartedly as she scurried away, leaving Draco alone in the usually empty corridor.

What had just happened?

He didn't know, but all he did know was that at that moment, he needed the warmth of his daughter in his arms to muffle everything going on in his mind. Including Granger's relationship to him. Were they friends? Were they enemies? Acquaintances? Foes? Were there any other synonyms to describe what Granger was to Draco? None that he wanted to admit to.

"Daddy!" Haley cried to Draco when he swaggered through the studio doors. The small amount of parents or watching siblings left in the foyer eyed Draco slightly before returning to their earlier events.

"Hey Bugga!" Malfoy said, sweeping her up in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, and sat with her in his arms onto a cushioned bench. "How was class? Feel like a ballerina yet?"

Haley nodded and hugged her father close. "A very good barina." she laughed, kissing Draco's cheek. Instantly it felt like all of his problems melted away with the kiss. He held Haley close and kissed her blonde locks again.

"Why don't you get your street shoes so we can go home, how about it Bug? Then you can eat a nice bowl of ice-cream when we get home and take a warm bath." Draco suggested, pulling Haley away from his chest.

With a wordless response, Haley leapt from her father's arms and raced around the corner to retrieve her small black galoshes, for it had rained early that day. Draco let out a small chuckle at her abundant energy and stood, brushing dust off of his trousers.

That's when he turned and saw her. Granger. Hermione Granger.

She stood in the front of the largest studio, waving her arms around and around at around 20 girls standing in blue and green peacock-like outfits. She was talking, but Draco couldn't hear. Wandlessly, he cast an Improved Hearing charm on his ears.

"...you're all flopping around now, trying to duplicate these mystical creatures from the Garden of Eden, but I'm not feeling it!" she exclaimed, not yelling at the girls though. In fact, she was almost laughing with them. She flung her body around, impersonating the dancers and they laughed at the hideous sight. "Your audience doesn't want to see that either! So act like a bird! Again!"

Instrumental music began playing that Draco could only describe it as "ba dum dum dum DUM dum, da dum DUM dum, dadump DUM dadumpdump da dum dum DUM." And then it repeated. It was rather techno and pretty however.

Apparently the dancers didn't act like birds exactly how Hermione wanted, so she paused the music again. "I have an idea," she started, putting her hands in front of her. "When you dance, everyone tweet, tweet like a bird! You're supposed to be birds, you look like birds, and if you sound like birds, maybe you'll dance like birds! Tweet!" She smiled, her face growing brighter. She wasn't any happier than she was teaching dance. Draco could tell.

The music started again and along with it, shrills tweets. Some girls tweeted in time with the music, others however, just tweeted in general.

As the dance neared its end, Hermione began tweeting too, and joined the middle of the dance, becoming a bird. Draco couldn't help but be captivated by her beautiful, sharp movements. "And chassé, tilt jump, pas de bourrée and hit, hit, hit!" she exclaimed. "Hand by your face, give yourself a beak and hit! Hit! HIT! YES! Yes, perfect!" Hermione smiled and watched the rest of the dance, completely glowing.

Hermione's gaze drifted until it matched Draco's. Her face didn't fall, she just continued to smile.

Flabbergasted, Draco glanced over his shoulder. "Where the hell is Haley?" He muttered.

But something was going on with him. He had a plan. He didn't want Hermione to see him watching her, and he couldn't go on _without _watching her.

After a month of preparation, it was finally finished, the Polyjuice Potion. Over the month, Draco plucked multiple Muggle hairs but finally decided on a light brown strand of hair he knew belonged to a male.

Now he currently was standing in the Academy watching Hermione dance with guilty eyes. He sulked somewhere in the shadows so Hermione couldn't see him. She was dancing alone, practising something, and it was about 9 at night. He had dropped Haley off at his mother's so he could put his Granger-watching plan into action. He wasn't stalking her, he simply wanted to watch her dance. Ballet, contemporary, jazz, anything. But now she was wearing pointe shoes, and dancing in a small circle.

Draco's hour was almost up, but he didn't want to leave. He craved her dance, for no reason. He craved her, for some reason that was all too foreign to him. He'd never felt this way before, and it scared him.

The floor of the small classroom was slippery and Hermione was attempting to break in her new pointe shoes. The satin tips were still unused and it caused a few bumbles.

She chasséd to the corner and prepared. Travelling towards the windows (and Draco's hiding spot) she performed a tours jeté. As she landed the fresh silk contradicted with the floor and she fell with a thud to the floor.

Immediately, without thinking twice, Draco rushed into the studio and wrapped his arms around Hermione, pulling her up. "Are you okay?" He asked worried and curious about her fall.

"Yes, I-" Hermione raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden stranger, as if to say 'Who are you?' The question needn't to exist however, since Draco's clock ticked to 0.

The metamorphosis from Polyjuice Potion was always a strange one. His eyes popped and his skin bubbled. The colour of his irises transformed from a deep hazel to his normal colourless silver. The brown hair lightened back into his trademark almost-white locks, and he grew a few inches in height.

Again there were in the awkward stance of their lips being close to one another. Since the other incident and cheek kiss they had tried avoided talking as long as possible and it seemed to have been working.

_Don't lean in..._ Draco thought worriedly, but Hermione did the exact opposite. He braced himself for her soft lips to embrace his but they didn't. Instead she surpassed his lips and gave him a hug.

Then Hermione was gone. "Goodbye Malfoy," she called in a small whisper. Draco didn't hesitate in leaving, he had to get out, now. She had no idea what she did to him on a normal day when he watched her dance. Dance was his drug, and she was the dealer. Or rather, was it vice versa now?

Hermione's heart was pounding obstreperously and it ricocheted through the halls of the Academy. Did she want to kiss him? Maybe...? Right now she was just confused and wanted to fall asleep crying.

Crying and wishing she hadn't fallen.

**A/N: I really like this chapter, I hope you all did too!**

**I actually finished this a day EARLIER than I thought! Yay me! Most of this chapter was written while I watched "To Kill A Mockingbird." It's a good book and movie.**

**A lot of scenes in this chapter, (like the Rachael scene) wasn't supposed to happen. It just came out when I wrote! That just occurs sometimes when I write!**

**waterflower20-Yes, Hermione WAS wearing the cast, I just didn't describe it! I didn't really think about it at the time!**

**Please everyone Review, Follow and Favourite, it means everything to me**

**You all are going to Review for me because I updated sooner right? No? Okay :( Please give me your thoughts anyway, it truly brings a smile to my face to see how much you love it! My dream is to become a well-known Dramione writer, but to do that I need fans! And I love you all!**

***BIG HUG***

**P.S. NEWEST longest chapter! Yay! It was over 5,000 words, and it was 10 pages! I feel so accomplished!  
**


	13. Not As We

**A/N: I hope this chapter clears a couple of confusing things from the last one, I know it was quite mind-boggling. **

**Near the end I describe lots, mostly because I write these chapters in sections of time, and during that time I just happened to feel overly descriptive, so I apologise if it bothers anyone!**

**Just informing you, by the time this fic is over, all of your questions regarding Haley and her mysterious mother will be answered, in case you were wondering!**

**The chapter title comes from the song, "Not As We" by Alanis Morissette. **

Hermione continued to sob, her tears falling the length of the bottle when she tilted it back. "What is wrong with him?" she exclaimed over and over. She had sported a foetal-position for the last two hours and was currently on her second bottle of wine.

"Herman, you need to calm down and tell me what happened," Lacey coaxed, trying to reach out and retrieved the wine bottle clutched in Hermione's tear-stained hands. The older witch shot her head up and growled like a deranged zoo animal. "That's it." Lacey exclaimed, and was quiet for a moment. She turned and shuffled into Hermione's kitchenette seemingly nonchalant. "I didn't want it to come to this," she explained while picking up her aspen wand, "but _Accio wine bottle!_"

Despite Hermione's tugs and efforts, the bottle unleashed itself and flew to Lacey's waiting hand.

"Urgh!" Hermione grunted, folding her arms across her chest like a frustrated four year old. Lacey set down the bottle and floated over to her best friend. She climbed over the sofa back and plopped onto a cushion beside Hermione.

"What happened?" she asked again, this time a bit more compassionate. No answer. "Do you want me to force you to talk? I can get out the Veritaserum or _Imperio _you, you know. I'm not scared of the American Ministry, they sleep in until 12 every day!" Again, no answer. "C'mon Herman, please?"

Finally Hermione composed herself. Apparently 'please' _was_ the magic word. Rubbing away salty tears, and slightly streaking her simple make-up – mascara – Hermione finally started uttering words that made sense. "I was just practising," she started, giving a hiccup. "And-and I fell and then he was there. He helped me up and my brain stopped working obviously, because I hugged him, and-and said goodbye. He had been there...watching me dance..." Hermione's voice hitched after that and she couldn't speak any more if she wanted to.

Lacey raised her eyebrows, and her mouth hung slightly ajar. "That's all?" Hermione soundlessly nodded her answer. "Then why are you crying?" She asked, tenderly brushing the tips of her fingers down one of her friend's curls.

That answer was to be kept a secret from Lacey. If Hermione was lying, she'd say the reason was because she was afraid that with Malfoy's past he would've tried to hex her or worse since they were alone. But they had been alone many times and he hadn't tried to even poison her.

If she was being truthful with herself, Hermione would say that she was crying because there was a part of her – a part she now absolutely loathed to the pits of hell – that felt safe when she was being held in his arms. Or felt butterflies in her stomach when he barely kissed her cheek. It felt like a childhood crush but it was one she desired to push away and never mention. Never in her life had Hermione imagined herself crying over the fact that she was scared because the cheeky, hit-worthy git that harboured at her school had transfigured into a kind, loving father and semi-tolerable man who she was slightly attracted to.

Hermione didn't have an answer to why she hugged Draco or why she even said goodbye. It possibly could have been the part of her that liked him coming out. Or perhaps she was in too shocked of a state to rationally think things through and instead, acted on her emotions.

Whatever had happened, her mind was split in two, half regretting the night, the other wishing for it to repeat over and over and over again.

Draco didn't have time to indulge over the events of that night. He was too busy being a dad, healing the sick and injured and visiting his mother. He hardly had time to take care of himself! Today however, he and Haley were paying a visit to his mum.

Narcissa currently was the only resident of Malfoy Manor. The House-Elves had fled along with Lucius. She didn't really know what to do with her time, so she often did odd-jobs like garden. Gardening was her passion now, it seemed. Without her husband, Narcissa didn't know what to do. She was hardly an independent woman. Women from Pureblood families never were, always taught to depend on their husbands and cater to them. This had to be the first time she was actually and truly _lonely. _

"Good afternoon Mother," Draco greeted once Narcissa opened the door. He shrugged off his jacket and slid off his shoes. He leaned over and gave her a kind kiss on the cheek like boys are supposed to do to their mums. "The begonias out front look lovely. Did you use a year-round charm on them?" Draco asked, trying to start a conversation. It only registered a small reply – which was 'Thank you, and yes' – and the foyer became quiet again.

Haley stood quietly next to her father, sucking on a lolly he had surprised her with. Although Haley loved Narcissa, she had been quite stubborn to leave the comforts of home to visit her grandmother. That's when Draco presented Haley the lolly.

The November chill had struck and it took Draco a good five minutes to unravel Haley from all of her protective covering. A hat, gloves, a scarf, a long sleeved shirt, a jumper, a jacket, snow-trousers, a parka _and _he had performed a Warming spell on her. Call it paranoia, but Draco did not want his daughter to get sick. She had gotten the flu once shortly after her mother died and it was the first time he had to deal with Haley sick by himself. She hadn't even gotten hay-fever since.

"Hi Gamma!" Haley shouted fairly loudly when she spotted her grandmother. Strangely, Narcissa seemed to be the only human Haley actually spoke to without being shy. Well, besides her father that is.

Narcissa bent down to her granddaughter's eye level and genuinely smiled. "How's my favourite granddaughter today?" she asked, pinching one semi-rose blushed cheek.

Draco scoffed slightly, hanging up every one of Haley's layers. "She's your only granddaughter, Mum." He gave a small laugh.

"That's why she's my absolute favourite," Narcissa smiled, her attention never deviated from Haley's innocent face. "You look rather pretty today, is that a new top?"

Draco shook his head as the two engaged in conversation and made his way towards the extensive kitchen. Whenever Narcissa and Haley began talking it was unsure whether they'd stop or not. He decided to make ravioli for lunch, since Narcissa seemed too preoccupied to even lift a finger. Not until the water began to boil did Draco finally think about the night's events.

His actions were purely on impact. The helping her, not the watching. The staring at her dancing, now that was something that Draco wasn't sure when it started. He couldn't remember the first time where a simple tours jeté made him go so mad. The dance was mesmerizing in ways he couldn't explain. It was almost as if Hermione's dancing was some sort of aphrodisiac to Draco. Not that he wanted to shag Granger, it just seemed that his downstairs neighbour didn't have a brain.

All Draco knew, was that Granger had affected his way of life. And not just a little.

A lot. A substantial amount. Enough to the point where if she suddenly died then he wouldn't go back to where things were, he'd stay affected.

"Ow! Bollocks!" Draco quickly pulled his left hand away from its former resting area in the steaming water. "What the hell were you thinking?" He screamed at his hand as if it had a brain. But the question didn't seem to only pertain to his hand.

"Daddy?"

"Draco?" Haley and Narcissa spoke at the same time, running into the kitchen together. Apparently Draco had screamed louder than he thought. "Are you okay, honey?" Narcissa asked, floating over towards her mildly injured son.

Embarrassed to be seen hurt in front of his impressionable daughter, Draco shot his hand behind his back. "I'm fine Mum, really." He lied through his teeth, presenting a faux-smile.

Narcissa raised a questionable eyebrow. "Are you sure? Let Mummy see what you're hiding..." She laughed playfully and tried to reach around to grab Draco's hand, but with his good one, he gently gripped her wrist to withhold her.

"Dae? What's wrong?" Haley asked, slowly moving forward to the fidgeting pair.

Draco motioned his left hand to Haley and bit his lip. "See mother? I didn't want Haley to get concerned about me! I'm supposed to be 'Indestructible Daddy.' I can't if you're babying me!" He whispered angrily.

Narcissa's face fell as she noticed the scorch mark, but she gave an apologetic look, with her lips in a slight pout and her eyes heavy and sad. "Of course, I'm sorry, Draco." She backed away and was replaced by Haley, her greedy hands waving in the air to be lifted.

Draco bent his knees slightly and whisked Haley up into his arms, kissing her hair behind the shell of her ear. Narcissa had backed into the island and didn't meet Draco's eyes. "Mum, I-I'm sorry, I should never have reacted that way towards you. I just can't have Haley thinking...Never mind, I don't have an excuse, I'm sorry."

Effortlessly, Narcissa nodded and her watery eyes blinked. It was hard, thinking that her Draco was all grown up, an adult with a child to care for of his own. It did things to a woman. "It's quite all right. Come on Haley, let's sit at the table. You can tell me more about dance class there," Haley struggled, but eventually transferred from her stable father to her shaky grandmother.

Hurrying to the tap, Draco flipped the lever and let cool water rain down on his burning hand. After the outside pain ceased, he whipped out his wand and cast a charm to keep the burning under control. He sighed of content as he watched the scorch mark slowly shrink until it was no longer visible. Inadvertently, Draco's eyes drifted up his left forearm and cringed slightly, remembering the disgusting Mark that hid beneath the spell. He ached for the days before the horrid print tattooed his skin.

"Stop it, Draco," he muttered quietly to himself, and preceded to boil the ravioli. This was not a time to get worked up over his Dark past. Not now at least, while apparently new Death Eaters still roamed about.

"Le déjeuner est servi!" Draco exclaimed happily, balancing three plates of the Italian pasta in his arms as he pushed through the door to the dining room. He slid the plates down his forearms and onto the tabletop in front of each chair.

Narcissa smiled and reached for her entrée fork. "You know I love it when you speak French Draco," she speared a square of ravioli, "It makes me feel like my 5 years of teaching you the language has paid off."

After finishing his rounds, Draco sat in the green-cushioned dining chair and placed a silk napkin on his lap. He leaned over took Haley's own napkin and tucked in into her shirt like a bib. "I'm glad you enjoyed torturing me, Mum," he laughed, digging into his own lunch.

The former Black gave a petite chuckle. "It wasn't that bad! After lessons you couldn't stop rambling random words in French." Draco rolled his eyes sarcastically and Haley giggled into her hand, her face turning rosy. "Haley," Narcissa started, in her story-telling voice. "Once, your father had a French lesson and he was learning how to say 'Can I go to the bathroom' and..." Draco zoned out, not wanting to relive the embarrassing story in which he forgot how to ask to use the toilet and instead went in his pants. Narcissa only allowed him to speak French during lessons, and he couldn't hold it any longer. At the age of 9, it was the most horrible day of his life.

"So Draco," Narcissa called, breaking his concentration on nothing. "Have you got a 'special lady' in your life yet? Am I going to get any more grandchildren?"

Draco nearly spat out his lunch. "Uh," he started but was unable to finish whatever answer he was going to conjure in his head. Haley had finally spoken up at the most horrible question imaginable.

"I have a new mummy!" She exclaimed, her head bouncing slightly.

Narcissa's eyebrows knit together and she jut her chin slightly in Draco's direction. "A-a new mummy? Care to explain, or does the four year old know enough to justify?" Again, Malfoy found himself speechless while Haley could chat on and on.

"Her name is Miss Hernia!" Haley said, hopping up onto the seat of her chair. Her small legs stood taller than the dining table. Draco leant over and gently gripped Haley and set her down before she jumped a broke a bone or two.

Draco noticed his mother about to ask the expected question and stopped her before she could continue. "Not the illness Mother," he explained, and immediately Narcissa's mouth closed. "Her name is...is Hermione." he coughed out. "And she isn't Haley's new mum, she's just...attached to her is all." Draco wrung his hands impatiently then rubbed Haley's back, silently informing her that standing on her chair did not make him angry with her. "It's her dance teacher."

Narcissa barely heard the last part. "Hermione? Do you mean-?" Draco hadn't interrupted his mother, nor did Haley. She had stopped talking on her own. Apparently she had gotten caught up in her words. "The Muggle-born?" She whispered it like a child telling another a naughty word.

Draco nodded with a groan. "Granger, yes, Mother. Hermione Granger has imprinted on my daughter, happy?" He hadn't intended on telling his mother the ordeal with Granger but it seemed he had no choice any more.

Narcissa quieted for a moment to sip her warm tea she just noticed lay on the table. After a good 15 seconds of awkward silence, she cleared her throat. "So, this Granger girl, there's something sexual going on between you two?"

Like a superhero, Draco reached over to Haley for the third time, but this time covered her delicate and innocent ears. "Mother!" He exclaimed and pet Haley's head with his thumb. "Don't mention s-e-x in front of H-a-l-e-y."

"That's me!" Haley yelled loudly over her muffled ears. The protection of her innocence apparently wasn't strong enough, so Draco unveiled his wand and cast a Muffling Charm on his small princess.

The lonely Malfoy woman raised her eyebrows. "So it's true then? You and the girl, Granger? You've been having sexual intercourse behind my back?" Narcissa crossed her arms and stared with a solemn face, unbroken, yet wrecked on the inside.

Draco wanted to puke. "No we haven't!" He declared, trying to set his mother straight. On another note, he added, "And I've had sex behind your back before! How do you think I got Haley? You know the science, Mum, she didn't fall from the sky. The stork didn't bring her to my doorstep." He rambled on and on, trying to get the topic to change from Hermione to something less annoying.

Draco only wanted to think about Hermione when he was with her. _Wanted_ is the key word here. Instead he found himself thinking about her face when he was filling out a patient's progress report. Or an image of her dancing, zoomed in on her petite legs or her flexible back, would waltz into his brain just around the time he was supposed to shower.

"I do know how babies are made, Draco," Narcissa said monotonously, her eyes flitting from Draco's matching pair and over to Haley's oblivious face. "If you aren't sleeping with the girl, what _are _ you doing together?"

The blonde shook his head. "We're-we're doing nothing," he answered in realisation. "We're doing nothing with each other. We see one another merely on business terms and-and that's how it will always be, okay? She is Haley's teacher and that is all." Draco took a slow, deep breath, preceded by a gulp of saliva travelling down his throat. "That is all it will ever be."

The air in the room became trapped unable to escape. That's how Draco felt in his shell of a former home. He waved his wand and picked Haley up, one hand under her bottom, the other holding her back. "Goodbye, Mother, see you next Sunday." He said distantly. Before Narcissa could stop him, he raced to the door.

Haley's hand gently waved away at her grandmother, and Narcissa silently waved her goodbye back, before returning back to her lonely prison cell.

Hermione hurried back over to the Floo. Ginny had called her in a rage and demanded (not asked, but _demanded_) Hermione come over to the Burrow as quick as she could with some bricks. Surprisingly, she didn't keep a trunk of bricks hiding in the back of her flat, so instead she simply transfigured multiple old shards of glass into hardly malleable bricks.

Whizzing past George and Ron's newest Weasley's Wizard Wheezes invention, Hermione stepped into the sitting room of the Burrow. Crouched next to a sitting and enraged Ginny was Harry, holding and stroking his fiancée's hand. "Hermione," he whispered slowly. "Sit please. Ginny wants to hit a wall right now and you're standing in front of the only stable one."

Speedily, Granger sat onto the dusty-coloured sofa. Ginny's face was beaming red and her shoulders shook like a twitching rabbit. "What's going on with her?" Hermione asked, only half noticing the scattered papers spread around the room. "Did something happen to Molly?" She asked, a ball of lead tightening around her stomach.

"No, nothing that drastic," Harry promised, still trying to sooth Ginny. "Honey," he said, looking over at the redhead, "tell Hermione what's going on." Ginny's eyes watered and she glanced between Harry and Hermione, her two friends. She rubbed her hands up and down her face, seeping tears into her pores.

She looked up at Hermione and held out her hand. "Brick," she said roughly, her voice scratchy from the tears. The brunette stared back in small shock, unsure what to do, and unmoving. "Brick!" Ginny repeated, even louder this time.

Haggardly, Hermione reached for one transfigured red brick. She held it out to the flaming ginger who took the proffered brick forcefully. Laying it sideways on the ground just in front of her feet, Ginny stood and gripped her hazel wand tight in her small, pale hand. She shakily pointed the tip at the brick and bellowed out a loud, "_Confringo!_"

The brick blasted and broke before burning a bright haze of brilliant reds, oranges, and banana yellows. "Another," Ginny croaked, and Hermione placed a second brick in place of the first. Again, Ginny roared out the spell and again the brick burst into flames. This continued until all seven bricks were destroyed.

"Ginny, are you ready to tell Hermione what's wrong now?" Harry asked steadily and carefully as to not upset the obviously upset bride before him. She gave a slight nod and sat back down, carefully intertwining herself into Harry's strong arms.

Hermione watched the couple engage and felt a pang of envy. She dreamed for a love like theirs someday. A love that didn't matter what mood you were in or whether you looked pretty. A love that stood tall over the highest problems and conquered mountains of insecurities. Observing her long time friends in such a happy relationship made her heart twinge.

Clearing her coated throat, Ginny raised her heavy head. "The gnome problem here at home has gotten rather untidy and disorderly. Because of this, its going to become impossible to host the wedding here..." she trailed off for a moment, her breath slightly hitching. "I wanted the wedding to be on New Year's Eve but with the circumstances now, finding somewhere to have the wedding on that day is becoming seemingly impossible. I've been looking for wedding venues for days on end now, and nothing seems to be available." She gave a small chuckle. "I guess I'm having one of those 'bridezilla meltdowns' Lacey calls it." Ginny sighed and wrung her hands through Harry's long fingers. "I'm just stressed now."

Hermione felt sorry for Ginny and wanted to wave her wand and make everything all better. But to no avail, Ginny would be hopelessly stuck. Staring at her feet, an idea struck Hermione. "Have the wedding at the studio," she offered. "The Christmas show will be long over and there are no classes over holiday break. Have the Potter-Weasley wedding at the Young Dancers of London!"

Ginny shook her head wildly, and Harry matched her motion. "No, we couldn't ask you to do that," He said compassionately. "We understand you mean well, but that's an awfully big notion-"

Hermione interrupted her old friend with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's not that big of a deal, honest. It will be fine." Her face began to beam with a smile of the fact that her best friends' wedding could appear in her academy.

The in love couple gave each other sympathetic looks and then turned back at Hermione simultaneously. "Not to upset you or anything," Ginny started, "but the studio sort of smells like feet. Everyday. And a lot. Not a little, but about as much as Slug Repellent."

The brunette's smile fell a trifle, but she understood. "No, it's fine. I was only offering." The room became cricket-worthy quiet, and the trio didn't find the urge to laugh like when they were teenagers. As adults, they had grown somewhat quieter, and especially knowing that Death Eaters still haunted Britain didn't help. "You know what Ginny," Hermione started, catching the ginger's attention. "I feel like we haven't had much time together any more, just you and I. Tomorrow, I'm going to help you find a venue. And your wedding date will stay New Year's Eve."

Ginny cracked a smile and Hermione mirrored one back. Venue shopping would be the perfect distraction from the ever present visions of Draco swirling in her head.

**A/N: I'm going to like the next chapter!**

**What did you think? Review and tell me!**

**I have the Nutcracker this weekend, so I'm going to be super busy and tired and all together drained, so I apologise if chapter 14 doesn't come until next Friday or so. **

**Also, tell me in a Review, do you like the fact of Draco as a Healer? I have another idea for a fic with his Healing as the main plot and I want to know if people would read it and be interested!**

**And if you have any questions or you are confused on some of the content of this fic, feel free to Review and tell me and I'll answer as best as I can!**

**The French in this chapter (although I am a proud Spanish student) means, "Lunch is served!" It's a rough translation so if anyone wants to correct me, by all means do!**

**This A/N is far too long. Be beautiful dolls and Review, Favourite and Follow? I'm one Favourite away from 100, and if you are that 100th I'll mention you!**

**Okay, and A/N over! **


	14. It's a Beautiful Place to Be Wasted

**A/N: Hiya, guys! I hope this chapter makes sense to you all! I loved describing it :)**

**More A/N at the bottom! This chapter title comes from the song, "Beautiful Place" by Good Charlotte. **

"_Reparo._" Hermione muttered, quickly fixing the lamp she had broken in her haste to make it to the Burrow in time. With Ginny's sanity and impatience already wearing thin, she didn't want to endanger it any more by showing up late for their date to search for a venue. "_Wingardium Leviosa_," she muttered, placing the newly mended lavender lamp back in its original position.

Looking in the mirror one final time, Hermione brushed a few stray hairs from her face. They framed her face well, but the curls were so short they almost seemed like tiny little pubic hairs when they weren't back in a bun. While playing with her locks, she noticed her face had started to flush a smidgen. It was only a pinkish shade, like a pink grapefruit, but it worried her slightly.

Trying not to let it get to her head, she left it in the back of her mind and grabbed her heavy jumper before rushing out of her apartment that seemed a little spacious lately. Hermione felt the Floo had been over-used recently, and since she didn't want to be covered in soot and ash all day, Apparition was a happy second.

Thinking hard about the warm, homey atmosphere of the Burrow, Hermione closed her eyes and immediately she recognised the strange sensation of Apparition. She scrunched her face as her stomach twisted and opened her eyes when her ballet feet landed on soft soil.

Hermione happily popped her eyes open and emitted a hardly audible squeak. Her face grew even redder and warmer, and she flew her hands up to her face in shock. Her subconscious had transported her not to the Burrow, but to Draco's front garden. Even when trying to focus on Three D's, her mind still drifted, albeit without her permission, to the fourth D.

She pinched her eyes shut and bit down on her lip so hard while concentrating, that by the time the Muggle-born finally Disapparated and arrived at the Burrow, she bore a temporary tooth mark in her lip deep enough to draw blood. Hermione licked her lip as she knocked on the door. It tasted like salt and when she swallowed the blood, it instantly gave her an upset stomach.

"Hermione dear, come in, come in!" Exclaimed Molly as she thrust open the front door. "It's getting so cold outside it's a wonder you aren't shivering up to your ears!" The loving mother threw her arms around Hermione and led her into the house. "Ginny's still upstairs preparing herself to look presentable. You can have a spot of tea or butterbeer until she's ready."

The curly brunette sat at the dining table of the Weasley's as Molly tended back to a pot on the stove. "I'll take some tea if you don't mind," she said and quickly added, "Thank you, Molly." It had taken a long process for Hermione to actually feel comfortable in calling Mrs. Weasley, Molly. She had spent so many years addressing the woman with her present surname, but Ron had been adamant that Hermione was part of the family, and "Mrs. Weasley" was just overrated. That was before Ron had torn her heart into halves.

"Anything for you, dear," Molly said, picking up her reed wand. With a quick swish, the water began to boil itself, and the tea bag floated in from the pantry. "Ginny is very appreciative of what you are doing. She had a panic attack last night over the venue and date."

Hermione gave a humble shrug. "I'd do anything for her. And who knows? Venue shopping might be fun," she said, giving a slight smile.

Molly bit her lip as the tea bag dropped into the cup of warm water. "I hate to burst your bubble dear, but Ginny, especially in the state she is now, is not a pleasure to shop with, or even be with." She confessed about her own daughter. "I won't lie to you, she's acting how I did around the time of my wedding to Arthur. I understand how she's feeling. I'm just warning you to stay cautious." Turning with the ready cup, her eyes and mouth fell slightly. Molly placed a hand on her hip, studying Hermione closely. "Are you sure your feeling fine? You look a bit feverish."

Hermione grabbed the proffered cup and brought the tip up to her top lip. "I'm fine," she said, taking a small sip. "The tea will help whatever it is." Gulping an even larger portion, Hermione felt it rush down her throat and scratch the edges. She tried to withhold a yelp and was grateful when she heard Ginny's familiar voice echo down the spiral staircase.

"Hermione!" She exclaimed, rushing into the small and crowded kitchen. She looked rather well for someone who had performed a perfect meltdown the night before. Her hair was up in a nice messy bun and she sported a deep green polo-neck jumper and slimming leggings. Her face, although smiling, ran anxiety all over it. Ginny attacked the brunette, causing her to cough on the burning tea. "Oh, sorry,"

The older, former Gryffindor hacked and coughed, still half-way choking on the tea. "No," she coughed, "It's fine. I'm fine." It seemed like she'd been saying that a bit too often. "Shall we get a move on, then?" Hermione suggested, standing abruptly. She needed to move, sitting didn't help. She had itches.

"Sure, just let me grab my handbag, I'll be back in a jiffy." Ginny turned on her heel and disappeared up the stairs so fast Hermione would've thought she had Apparated.

Brushing any wrinkles out of her magenta dress, Hermione was pulled to the side by Molly. "Ginny spent the night at Grimmauld Place last night. _With_ Harry. Kreacher told me. I have the insider's scoop. Apparently they put a Locking and Silencing Charm on the bedroom." She whispered, the obvious disappointment coating her words. Through her senectitude, Molly had began gossiping more and more, becoming quite the quidnunc. "I had more faith in her, truly, I thought that she wouldn't cave, but -"

Her speech was shorted when Ginny Apparated into the kitchen. "Come on Hermione," she said, linking her arm. She seemed to be slightly happier, and now that Hermione knew what had happened the night before, it all made sense. "Bye Mum," she said, giving Molly a kiss. Before Hermione knew it, Ginny Disapparated them away.

Seconds later they arrived in the alley of a busy street. However it wasn't Diagon Alley. But street still harboured wizards and witches. It wasn't London, it actually looked like...

"Manchester." Ginny answered Hermione's thought. "Magical Manchester to be more precise. This is where I found my dress. It's much more vast than Diagon Alley, and it includes wedding places, like venues. I didn't think to look here before." She just began to mumble off by herself as Hermione turned her eyes away, observing the place around her, while Ginny pulled her along. "It's called Armastus Alley."

Hermione nodded along, her head glancing back and forth. Large shops with enchanted books that opened whenever someone walked in, owls, Kneazles, and toads stared through the opaque windows, and magical wedding robe shops with colour-changing dresses whizzed past her in a haze of hues. "This is...huge." She mumbled, hardly taking in the multiple stores that passed her. "Ginny, where are we going?" Hermione asked, turning her attention back to the sprinting ginger ahead of her.

"To the wedding planner's. I casually walked by once and didn't notice it much. It not only helps plan your wedding, but there's a long, long, list of venues, caterers, bridal boutiques and botanists. I thought I had every planned down to a T, but then one completely annoying gnome problem and all of my hard work," Ginny made a flushing down, "down the toilet." She gave a frown but continued to manoeuvre throughout the rest of the alley.

Finally, reaching the corner of what seemed like a long, cobblestone street, was a tall white building smashed between two blackish grey, seemingly abandoned businesses. A pink sign bore the words, "Dream's Day of Wedded Bliss" and the tulle covered door seemed inviting.

Trudging into the building, Ginny dragged Hermione in, eager and anxious to find a venue. She squeezed her friend's hand so strongly, a small, fingerprint sized bruise had begun to form on the back of Hermione's hand.

Near the back of the foyer was a long mahogany desk that stretched from wall to wall. Atop the desk was a deep emerald calendar map with stacks and stacks of paper resting on it. An inkwell was set on the left side of the desk, ensuring its owner wrote left-handed. A small bluish black stain was half-hidden by the inkwell's base, but it was obvious that the small container often tipped and spilled its contents often. Perhaps the rage of frustration overtook its owner and the ceramic bottle was knocked over purposefully. Three quills were set in a perfect row, each three separate sizes. The tips gave an invisible slope and despite the ink stain, the desk was rather symmetrical.

Behind the angled desk sat a rather pudgy woman with a long nose who seemed about 50 years old. Her pearled glasses lay on the ridge of her nose, staring down at Ginny and Hermione. While her jumper and robes were dyed in bright pink colours that didn't hardly matched, her eyes laden a cold stare. "Welcome," She said, giving a wide smile. Her icy and uninviting eyes melted and warmed as she grinned. She stood and extended a short-fingered hand. "I'm Dream DeVaue."

Ginny reached forward anxiously and shook Dream's hand viscously. "It's great to meet you Venue, we're here to get a dream." She sputtered, mixing her words. Blushing furiously, Ginny took back her hand and wiped off her sweaty palms on her leggings, and took calming breaths.

"She's a bit excited," Hermione explained, shaking Dream's hand with her own. "Well, more like freaking out. She lost her venue and wants the wedding date to desperately be on New Year's Eve." Hermione paused and there was an awkward silence. What had she forgotten? "Oh!" She exclaimed, wanting to smack her head from such stupidity. "I'm Hermione Granger, and she's Ginny Weasley."

"Ginny Weasley?" Dream gasped, glancing over to the redhead and observing her hair colour. "Are you related to Arthur Weasley?" She asked, her smile growing.

Blushing, Ginny nodded and bit on of her nails nervously. "He's my father. How do you know him?"

Dream gave a hearty laugh, clutching her stomach as her bellowing echoed throughout the long foyer. "I practically grew up with him! He and I sat by each other in Transfiguration each year at Hogwarts!" Suddenly she became serious and bent forward, studying Ginny's features. "Who's your mother?" She asked, almost as if memorising her eyes.

Slightly frightened, Ginny took two-and-a-half steps back. Dream got the signal and sat back in her wheeled chair. "Um, Molly Prewett, she has my colour hair and-"

"Molly?" Dream exclaimed, her eyes getting twinkly. "Oh I loved Molly so much! She and Arthur were the cutest couple in Gryffindor, and everybody wanted to be them or date them!" She suddenly quieted and gave a slight cough. "Any who, you're here to find a venue, are you?" Ginny nodded, and Dream settled herself back into her seat. She lifted up a short laurel wand and with a quick swish at a drawer, it flew open and at least 20 thin sheets of parchment floated down atop of Ginny's lap.

"That seems like a great span of choices don't you think?" Hermione pointed out, tapping the fat stack. "There must be a good venue there, let's start shifting through them." She reached out, slowly leafing through the first five parchments when a spell knocked her hand away.

Ginny and Hermione's heads both whipped up to see Dream's wand still pointing at the stack of papers. "Sorry girls, I have a certain way to sort through this." She cleared her throat and set her wand back down, apparently trying to control picking it back up. "How many guests do you plan on having?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing between Hermione and Ginny.

"I've had 345 of 400 already reserved for the wedding." With a flick of Dream's wand, about seven individual parchments flew back into her grubby hand.

Ginny looked up in confusion, her face falling slightly from the loss of hope. "I'm sorry Miss, but those venues only seat 300 people." Dream attempted to set her wand down again, but kept it firmly in her hand. "Do you prefer an indoor or outdoor venue?"

The ginger took a deep breath and swallowed a log that had started to settle in her throat. Tentatively, she opened her mouth to answer. "O-outdoors." Her voice shook with anxiety. Hermione could understand, it _was_ her wedding that was in danger of not happening.

_Flick._ Another four sheets left Ginny's stack and she pulled it closer, feeling protective. She couldn't let any more out of her sight. It was nerve racking, and the last few sheets didn't look promising.

"Date?" Dream postulated quietly, knowing this question would be the ultimate factor. Ginny knew as well, and held her breath. "Date?" The older witch reiterated, growing impatient. Still Ginny did not speak. "DATE?" Dream practically screamed.

"December 31st of this year." The room became silent and the pudgy witch gave a sigh and half-heartedly twirled her wand. All the sheets, sans the one on the bottom, left Ginny's hand.

With another exasperated sigh, Dream stood up and rubbed her sore forearms. "There's your venue for you. May I set you up an appointment?"

Hermione reached out to brush Ginny's hair away from her face, worried she'd break out in a flotilla of tears. But on the contrary, the 24 year old bounced out of her plush chair with more fervour than she'd strolled in with. "Yes, oh yes! Yes!" She yelled excitedly, her shrill voice practically echoing in the foyer. She handed Dream the sheet and let out a sigh of relief.

The witch gave a gently smile and wink before sitting down to write an Owl. "Perfect."

"Dream said the address was 2-4-1 Wendell Way, London, but I don't see it..." Ginny mumbled thoughtfully, turning around in circles as she observed the small subdivision around her. It was just on the edge of the city and the light snow trailed the pathways around the area.

"The Fidelus Charm..." Hermione muttered in realisation. Her eyes grew wide and she looked for in no particular direction. She cleared her throat and braced herself. " Number 241 Wendell Way, London, England."

A flash, almost like lightening, ricocheted around their heads, spinning and almost transporting the two somewhere different. However, all that happened was the space directly in front of the pair expanded, showing an obviously magical site. Tiny, faux-stars shot up from the main building, and then disappeared once hitting the charm, like a group of fireworks. The grass was dressed with small colour-changing lanterns on the perimeter. The emerald grass looked painted with dew, but when Ginny bent down and brushed the tips of her fingers down, it rested on her hands like glitter. Hesitantly and curiously, she brought her hand up to her lips, and kissed her fingers slightly. "It tastes like...sugar."

Hermione nodded and observed it closer. "It's Salus Sugar. The most healthy ingredient in the world. A few licks of this can heal even the deepest of cuts. Ironic don't you think?" She gave a laugh, "Healthy sugar...

"It's extremely rare however, because it only grows in Latvia. The roots of the Salus Sugar-cane are blue and practically translucent. It's only ripe once every four years, on leap day. When it's ready for harvesting, it sparkles, but only for 24 hours on that day. There's only one farm in Latvia that grows in, right on the side of the Baltic Sea. The Salus Sugar is so sacred and helpful that once harvested, it's immediately impregnated into all cauldrons. It not only makes it shine, but it protects the Potion Master from any leaky contents." Hermione stopped her ramble and removed her eyes from the shiny grass.

Ginny gave a laugh and stood up as they strolled towards a brick pathway. "Is that really what you read about all this time?" Hermione shoved her friend slightly off of the pathway and she stepped into the grass, sparkles of the Sugar bounced around her.

"Sod off, Weasley," she laughed, starting to walk away. She took only four steps when the ginger pushed her down into the grass on the opposite side. "HEY!" She exclaimed, giggling her head off.

The two friends laughed in the healthy snow-like sugar until a sudden thud of a door caught their attention. "Hello," said a familiar, shrill voice. "You must be my appointment."

The pair of Gryffindors mirrored shocked looks on their faces as they stood up. Ginny's brushed off her bottom and Hermione's arms. The entire time, they were silent, still eyeing the venue owner. With uncertain looks, they preceded to the entrance, stealing glances from each other.

Pansy Parkinson bore a professional looking white button-up, grey blazer and matching skirt. Her heels, not to tall or short, but giving her a nice lift, gave the same bland, colour. It seemed so Slytherin of her. Pansy shut the door behind Hermione and Ginny and strut forward to face them.

"Hello Hermione, Ginny," she addressed her former peers. Ginny looked rather uncomfortable standing in the presence of the older girl. Her pug-like nose and annoying voice weren't exactly intimidating as they were frightening to the fiancée of Harry Potter. Hermione just gave a smug smirk. She was never quite fond of the so-called "Girlfriend of the Slytherin Prince." Even before this _thing_ with Draco had begun. "I want to make this formal and professional.

"You need a venue. I have a venue. You need it New Year's Eve. I just happen to be open on December 31st. You hate me. I hate you. But this is about you," she pointed to Hermione, "and your special day. I want you to be happy. In a sort of professional customer way of course. Besides this I could not care for your personal life."

Hermione lifted a finger slightly, wiggling it around. Pansy didn't take notice at all.

"I have a few things of course that are requirements. But first I'll show you what there is to offer," Pansy motioned the two visitors outside and to the left.

The outside was even more beautiful than the front garden. A long, carpeted aisle of snowy silk cascaded down the centre of the lawn. Many gorgeous burning paper lanterns floated along the way, passing dozens and dozens of simple, yet elegant, tulle covered dining chairs. It was shielded by a large white tarp that came to rest at the top where a ivory-coloured flower explosion decorated a paint-chipped gazebo. The entire company was slowly being surrounded by fake snow that disappeared once it hit the ground.

"It's...breathtaking." Ginny exhaled, glancing between the aisle. She grazed her hands along the edges of the chairs and turned around once she reached the end of the silky fabric. "Hermione," she sighed happily, eyeing one enchanted snowflake as it drifted to the ground. "What do you think?" She asked, her eyes full of tears of happiness.

Hermione stood stationary but walked the distance with her eyes. "It's much better than the Burrow would've ever been." As an afterthought, she added, "No offence."

Ginny shook her head, stifling a small laugh, "None taken. I agree." The two girls shared their own small laughs before Ginny went back to staring in awe.

"What do you think?" Pansy asked, directing the question towards Hermione who looked on to Ginny. The redhead shifted her feet slightly and gave a nod towards her waiting friend.

"This is it. This is perfect." Ginny said, her smile already increasing in bow.

Pansy gave a puzzled look that seemed fake and rehearsed. "You mean, you wouldn't like to see the reception hall or the ballroom? What about the fireplace or honeymoon suite?" Her words seemed to be common ones she spoke. Most people must've been too enthralled by the ceremony area to need to see any other part of the venue.

The best friends shook their heads simultaneously and in sync with each other. Pansy bit her lip and waved her hand. "Come back inside then so this can be finalized."

"So Pansy, if you don't mind me asking, what got you into Wizard Weddings?" Hermione inquired while Ginny and her looked over the metres of paperwork. Already the ginger had to refresh her quill thrice.

Pansy averted her attention from her grimy nails and instead to Hermione's patient face. "My mother actually." She confessed, making her back straighter in her chair. No one had ever asked her that before. "After the war, she wanted the Parkinson name to be better. This was – well, still is – my house, and we lived on such a pretty property, my mother decided to start a wedding business. She-she passed away a year after we opened..." Pansy's face slightly fell and Hermione felt immediately guilty for bringing it up.

Still busy scrawling away, Ginny took no recognition in the conversation. Hermione and Pansy both didn't want to start an old, uncivil, childish argument about school disputes, so the latter decided to ask a question, too. "Hermione, what is your fiancé's name?" She inquired, cracking her knuckles slowly, finger by finger.

"Oh," Hermione said, blushing a deep scarlet, much like Gryffindor's main colour. "I'm not the engaged. Ginny is," she said, her head motioning towards her fiery friend.

Pansy blushed embarrassingly, shaking her head back and forth. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I just assumed because...never mind. So, who's Weaslet-I mean, Ginny's husband to be?"

Hermione swallowed and gave a slight smile, trying to cover up her lie. This was meant to be a small wedding without many people knowing. But since Pansy _was_ the help in the wedding, she couldn't be lied to. "Harry Potter." She said, her face unchanging from its neutral gaze.

The former Slytherin gave a weak eye twitch that was hardly noticeable. However the rest of her outer composure wasn't fazed a wink. "That's very wonderful, it will be a glorious day, I'm sure of it."

Silence erupted and through it, Hermione realised her throat was still sore. She had forgotten about it during the day, but now it was in full force.

"DONE!" Ginny finally announced, flopping the stack on Pansy's lap. "Done," she repeated, breathing slowly to catch her breath, as if she had just played three back to back Quidditch games.

"Perfect," Pansy smiled, shifting through the papers. "There's just one more tiny detail. Hardly anything." Ginny nodded, soundlessly letting the dark-haired woman continue. "Since this is my house and venue, I would like an invitation to the wedding, with all of the abilities of a normal guests. Bring a guest, have cake, sit and eat, dance, see the ceremony, etcetera. That is the deal."

Ginny and Hermione exchanged looks. It was a lot to ask for, another guest? Even though the venue was covered by the Fidelus Charm, paparazzi always find a way in. Especially when it comes to Harry Potter. But Ginny's eyes were begging. This was her final chance.

Turning back to Pansy, Ginny gave a curt nod, "That is fine, Pansy." And with that notion, the pair of Gryffindors left, halfway happy and halfway regretful.

As soon as she was alone, Pansy Apparated to the other side of the city. She knocked seven times on a patient green door and braced herself. It opened slowly and creaked only a second before the owner slammed it open. His blonde hair stood on end when he recognised the visitor.

"I have to ask you something." She whispered.

**A/N: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I've been finishing up and studying for finals and Christmas shopping and so yes, I apologise for the wait.**

**I know this chapter seems rather...boring...but THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER, NO JOKE! A lot of this is rather important later in the story. Just remember that everything in this Fanfiction happens for a reason. And don't worry about the ending being a semi-cliffy. This part won't come back into play until later.**

**I am going on holiday and won't be near my computer again until the 24th of December, so this will be my last update until after then. So, you all are going to Review to help motivate me to write, right? Next chapter will be loads of Dramione, (at least I hope so) so be prepared! **

**You all love me, so you're going to Favourite, Follow and Review, please? Some of the people who normally read and Review didn't last time. WHERE ARE YOU?! You know who you are! :(  
**

**I'll give you all invisible Maltesers to all who Review! They truly make me happy! Thank you to all who Reviewed last chapter! And shout-out to vampirequeengoddess who was my 100 Favourite! You all mean the world to me! And have a Happy Christmas if I don't update before then!**


	15. I Think I'm Breaking Down Again

**A/N: HEY! Remember how I said I couldn't update until after the 24th of December? Well, it's an hour to Christmas morning, and I'm updating! I wrote this chapter on the Notes of my phone while on a plane and in a car while travelling home! **

**This chapter is probably my new favourite! The chapter title comes from the song, "Breaking Down" by Florence + the Machine!**

The warm air seemed like a trap in Draco's lungs. A hurricane had come and destroyed his home and here he was, stuck with Blaise at the stripper place again. His "friend" sported a nice Afro while floating on a cloud around a pole made of pistachios. The floor soon became as cool as ice and Draco ran, skidding to a stop in front of Ginger's door. Like Ground-hog Day, he knocked on the door like he did each night. It automatically opened with no one standing on the other side. The blonde stepped forward into a dance studio. From the front of the door, he followed the double bars with his eyes until they rested on a nude body. However, the body was blurred in the middle and feet, leaving Hermione's head, arms, and parts of her legs clear. Draco bent forward to try and get a better look, when Granger stood up sensually. Malfoy could feel a hard coming in as he and Granger simultaneously leant at once.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Draco shot his head up out of the warmth of his silky pillow. His neck and chest were soaked in perspiration. He licked his lips and got a salty after-taste. Where wasn't he sweating?

Dreams like that, or similar, had been haunting him for the past month. They frightened him, no doubt. When he prepared to sleep each night, especially while brushing his teeth, Draco got small panic attacks, worrying about the quantity of his dreams. No matter what he tried, thinking about sheep, cuddling with Haley, Dreamless Sleeping Draught even, Malfoy still woke up in a cold sweat, as if he had just made love to Granger.

What worried him most, was that part of him wished Granger _wasn't_ so blurry, or that he actually got the chance to kiss her.

Draco couldn't hide it from himself any more. Hermione Granger intrigued him.

She did more than just that. She made his mind forget things. She broke down a wall or two. Her simplicity was down-right alluring.

It could not be hidden any longer. Draco's feelings.

Were they feelings though? Or just an infatuation with looks? Personality? The thought of rebellion against something he could never touch, stroke, caress?

Whatever they were, they were strong. And stationary. They were spies. They snuck in without Draco or Hermione noticing.

Feelings. The bastards.

New Year's Eve was only three weeks away. The end of a year always gave Draco jitters. It was the point in which all the mistakes and successes made in that year were forgotten about and no longer mattered. New Year's, he supposed, was supposed to go out with a bang, to start the new year off on the right track. To make a resolution to turn your life, or someone else's, better in all aspects. In Draco's mind, New Year's was a far more stressful holiday than Christmas.

Christmas was a breeze. Haley wanted the same thing every year, a kitty cat doll and new pink pyjamas. Draco had already bought those earlier during the month.

New Year's had parties to plan and resolutions to make and people to kiss at midnight to create love-filled and prosperous years.

3 out of 3 of those things weren't looking up for Draco's near future.

Deciding not to wallow in self pity any longer, Draco turned into a sitting position on the side of the bed, stretched his toes, and then stood up, entirely unprepared to start the day.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Came a small voice from the sitting room. It echoed and carried until its direct location was the bedroom. Haley stood, her eyes shining from happiness.

Draco mood immediately rose. His face lifted into a wide smile and he opened his arms and places them on his knees. He bent over slightly. "What, what, what?" He mimicked Haley.

"Dae!" She said, stretching the word out. "Miss Hermne said today I have photo day!"

Draco gave a groan and ran a hand through his hair. "Photo day?" He postulated. He was too tired to deal with whatever "photo day" was. It was Saturday. He wanted to relax and sleep in, but apparently he couldn't.

Haley gave a few nods. "For our winter show."

Her father raised an eyebrow. "Winter show?" He was confused. Had he really not been listening or had Haley just not told him anything? "When did Miss Hermione tell you this?"

Haley put a finger to her chin and pondered. "Um." She thought, giving Draco a cute look. "5 classes ago." She answered.

"5 cla-" Draco couldn't even think. His breath cut short. "5 weeks ago?!" He almost yelled. Haley must've forgotten. He would've remember if his daughter had a recital.

Haley's eyes began to flood with tears, afraid her father was angry with her. "I sorry, Dae. I didn't mean to..."

Draco's heart melted, and he opened his arms for Haley. She shuffled over and he attacked her with his comforting arms. He kissed his beautiful young daughters head. "I'm not mad, honey." He promised her. "What time is photo day?" He tried.

Haley gave another thoughtful glance at the ceiling. "10." She finally answered.

Draco practically hopped out of bed.

The pair probably looked like two chickens with their heads cut off, flapping around to try and get ready. At some point Draco was wearing Haley's cardigan as a not fashionable belt and she bore one of Draco's black clown sized shoes.

Finally the two were dressed for the day, and Draco held Haley's dance clothes in his hand. Hermione had to be up at the studio. She was the owner, wasn't she?

The Young Dancers of London was crowded with many small children, or as Draco like to refer them as, the grubby gremlins. But not his little Haley of course. She was an angel sent from Heaven's cherubs. Adults filled the corridors too. However, they were all mothers. Draco couldn't spot a dad in sight. Well, except himself. He couldn't lie. It was intimidating. He spotted at least three pregnant mothers, two with newborns, seven with multiple young children, and three that stood in a corner, looking at the group ad silently judging them, and him.

Glancing around, he couldn't catch high or tail of Granger. Finally his eyes laid sight on the young American who was friends with her. Leilani? Lisa? Kasey?

"Excuse me," Draco said, tapping the blonde on her shoulder. She turned, flashing a wide, white smile. She was rather attractive, though left no affect in Draco like Granger did.

"Yes?" Asked the girl automatically. When she recognised Draco and his young daughter, her face softened. "Oh, good morning Mr. Malfoy. It's rather busy here today, don't you think?"

Draco gave a quick nod. The tag on her cream sweater read Lacey. Lacey! He knew it started with an L. "Speaking of today," he began. "I need to talk to Gra-I men Hermione. About dressing Haley for today. I'm unsure how to do it.

Lacey's mouth shaped into a 'o'. "I'll be right back, Mr. Malfoy."

As Lacey raced away, Draco called out, "Call me Draco!" but he doubt if she heard him, she had sped along too quickly.

"Herman!" Lacey called, making her way into her office. "Draco is here asking to speak with you."

Hermione blew her nose violently into the Kleenex. Simultaneously she let out a coated cough and hacked up a bit of phlegm.

Lacey crinkled her nose. "That's attractive," she said sarcastically, leaning up against the door-jamb as she usually did, brushing her hair with her fingers.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Given I'm as sick as sick can be..."

Lacey walked over and grabbed a metre stick. From a metre away, she pat Hermione's shoulder from afar. "You just have strep throat."

Hermione wailed, flailing her arms. "You mean the plague!" Hermione never got sick. She was very dedicated to her work and loved teaching kids, so she rarely took a day off. When she had to, it seemed like the end of the world.

"Calm down, Herman." Lacey popped up right hip and rested her right hand on it. "Draco is here with his daughter for pictures. He has something to talk to you about or something."

Hermione wanted to slap herself. How could she forget about Haley? And it was picture day! She couldn't wear her leotard, and Draco knew nothing about layering and straps!

"Lacey," Hermione instructed, "I need you to retrieve a nudie, new pink tights, new pink ballet slippers and Haley's outfit and get her dressed and put her hair in a bun with the part on the left. Got it?"

Lacey Lammell reached and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. "Say that again?"

Photo day was different than Draco had expected. With all the mums running around, he thought it was some sort of competition or had a money prize.

But no. Each group of kids had separate costumes for different dances, and each group would go up and take a group picture and then individuals. It was an orderly fashion, but Draco still felt competition floating in the air.

Draco didn't understand what was so exciting about it. He found himself rather bored by the multiple flashes of light coming from the largest studio. It was frightening sometimes too, if he was looking away. It glanced off other windows and ricocheted around the room like an echoing flash of lightening.

From the line, it didn't seem like Haley was going to get her pictures taken soon. Draco wanted to find Hermione, but he couldn't take the chance. Haley would be devastated however, if she knew her father hadn't watched her take pictures.

After what seemed like a millennium, Haley's small class of six went up to the large white background sheet for pictures. The photographer positioned them in certain places based on their height or weight or overall presence.

They all had matching outfits. A flowy, white dress, with tulle gently accenting the outside trim. Draco assumed they were angels or sprites, because each girl had a pair of white, glittery wings. Two girls in the middle, who looked almost identical, held faux candles with plastic fire.

A girl with straight black hair stood in the back with her chest out. Next to her was a girl with a loud mouth that opened every few seconds. They seemed to be good friends.

Finally Draco spotted his only daughter, giggling next to a girl around her height with red hair. They looked like they were friends, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of pride in his chest.

_ She better not be a Weasley._

The pictures-which he saw through the mirror-looked rather nice. One time Haley caught Draco's gaze and he gave her a small wave. Her smile grew bigger.

During her individual, the photographer told Haley to stand with her toe to the front and pointed. She did as instructed and smiled over her shoulder. Like most Malfoys, Haley was photogenic.

Following past classes, Haley's group left the photography area and travelled to their normal studio to practise their dance. Draco hadn't seen it yet, and he was excited.

Haley raced towards her father after pictures and gave him a kiss. "Dae," she said, whispering. "Don't watch the dance."

Draco gave a fake disappointed look with a pouted lip. "Why?" He asked, slightly disappointed for real. Did his daughter not want him to see her dance? Was she bad?

Haley attempted to roll her eyes like she'd seen Draco do. "'Cause it's a surprise, Daddy!" She said like the reasoning was as obvious as colours.

Draco kissed her hair sprayed head and set her back on solid ground. "Alright Bug, I'll go distract myself. But I will see that dance." He gave her another kiss goodbye before walking away. Draco's mind had been busy thinking about Granger 24/7, he had forgotten how much he loved Haley, how much she made him happy.

When Draco first became a widower and a single father, he was almost positive hiring a governess was essential. He couldn't possibly see the future being good if he had no help. Draco didn't think he was capable of caring for a two year old and maintaining a well-paying career. His father's fortune had left with him, meaning Draco had to get a job to provide for his daughter and, at the time, his wife.

But after days on end spending and caring for Haley, he knew a governess wasn't an option. He promised himself to help and protect her the rest of her life. So far, he was doing well.

Five minutes after Haley left him, Draco finally realised he could find Granger, wherever she may be, and talk to her.

He had a whole speech planned out, he wanted to apologise, apologise for what happened, for anything that was a repercussion of it. Draco had been haunted by the thought of Granger and him together, and wondered if she was too.

The academy had three floors, and since it was obvious Hermione was not anywhere on the first, Draco opted to give the next floor a try. He passed her office and peeked in just in case.

Empty.

He tried the second floor. Five more studios harboured there. Three were wooden floors used for tap and one had a slippery bottom, used for shoeless dances called Modern and Contemporary. One had barres all around the studio, including the mirror, which is used for pointe classes or long classes for the older girls.

It was still empty. Not even a distance whisper of music haunted the floor. No window cleaner or janitor around. It was unnerving. But seemingly beautiful.

The third and final floor. Hermione _had _to be here. If not, Draco would be surprised. As the owner of the studio, a week from the winter recital, Hermione would be cutting it close.

The first good indication was the sound of crackling music. It was soothing to Draco's ears and he wanted to follow it. Old music played. It sounded somewhat familiar...

The top floor held a rehearsal room which had only one, white movable barre. It also included a full gymnastics arena, with parallel bars, uneven bars, a trampoline, floor, beam, vault, rings, a high bar and a Pommel Horse. The arena was locked, so there must've been only one place Hermione could be.

The rehearsal room.

Draco made light steps over to the back room. The overhead lights were off, however the dims were slightly illuminating the room, leaving everything in an orangish gaze.

_ She's here. I can tell._

Draco made his way over to the window, but he didn't see Hermione. Instead, he saw a body, a translucent body made of what looked like tiny shimmering pink stars. The three-dimensional body began to dance ballet. It was magic's doing.

There she was. Granger was standing, wearing nothing but a pair of black track suit trousers and a black jumper with the sleeves shoved up to her elbows. Her vine wand, holding straight out, was twisting slowly in time with body. Suddenly Granger's wand made a flash and the body multiplied into 15 instead of one.

Next to Hermione was an old Muggle record player. The only reason Draco knew what it was, was because once a long time ago, he tried watching a Muggle film at a girl's house at University. It was "It's A Wonderful Life". For a Muggle film, it actually was quite good.

To the record's music, the 15 bodies danced in perfect timing, to beautiful choreography. Hermione looked pale and she wasn't dancing alongside the bodies. Hermione was muttered words, ballet terms, to make the bodies dance. It was a gorgeous, transfixing sight. Before he could stop himself, Draco grabbed hold of the knob and marched into the room.

Hermione's wand dropped from surprise. What was Draco doing here?

"That's neat." He said, pointing to the dispersing army of faceless dancers. He breathed in and out slowly, out of breath. "An amazing symphony of light."

Hermione didn't thank him verbally. She gave a soft smile. Then he face scrunched together. "What are you doing here?" She asked, placing her arms around her body protectively.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you sick?" He asked, noticing the scratchy sound in her voice, and the heat radiating from her. "Is that why you aren't downstairs?"

The brunette gave a nod. "I thought I'd get started on some choreography for competition. But my body aches so much I can't move. I have strep throat." She picked up her wand and gave it a wave, composing one of the translucent dancers. It remained still however. "I created this. To help me visualise dances. I do it on the third floor after hours usually, but today everyone is downstairs, I thought I'd take the risk..." She trailed off realising she had talked too much and he voice would crack any moment. "You never answered my question..."

Draco crossed his arms. "What?" He asked, forgetting the question already.

Hermione Granger scoffed, memorising Draco's face. It had a sort of childish look to it. Innocence trickles behind lines of age and experience. Lines of ache and anxiety. She looked away, staring at her bare feet. "What are you doing here?" She reiterated.

Draco clasped his hands and stared at his thumbs, embarrassed of the answer. "I came to talk to you," he answered truthfully. "I've wanted to say that if I caused you any distress than I didn't mean to."

Hermione stayed silent, processing all the information. This was so unlike Draco. What was he doing? "But I must say, it is your fault."

There's the Malfoy she knew.

"You over-analyse everything I say or do. You probably were just analysing why I was here. Weren't you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione remained quiet for a moment. "No comment." She said, using his past words from an uncomfortable conversation.

"I want to ask you to do something," Draco began, "Please do not worry about things as much as you do." He asked, his face serious. He wrung his hands, wiping them on his pants and then wringing them again.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Draco hurried forward and placed his hand over her mouth. Hermione's eyes rounded, eyeing his hand and then its perpetrator.

"Don't say you don't because you do." He persisted. "I can see it in your eyes. I've known you for over ten years, Granger. Maybe not personally, but I know you. You worry. Now stop.

"There isn't always a reason for everything, Granger." His stomach tightened. Draco took a deep breath. "Sometimes, things happen when no one wants or expects it to happen."

Hermione mumbled something, however it was muffled by Draco's hand. He temporarily lifted it off, but didn't keep it far away. He hooked his thumb by her ear, his eyes watching hers.

"How am I supposed to not worry, and do what you want, when you haven't even done what I asked?" Hermione enquired, crossing her arms. She waited. Her hair, that was currently in a messy bun, threatened to fall and frame her face.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What are you-" And suddenly he remembered, and his face fell. He bit his lip and downed his head, looking at his shoes.

The girl in front of Draco gave a smirk that was Malfoy-worthy. "Yes, you haven't apologised yet. For everything, Malfoy."

He shook his head vigorously. "That's not going to happen, Hermione." She realised his mistake as soon as he did. Neither said a thing. It was too precious of a Freudian slip to correct it. "It isn't going to happen."

Hermione bit her lip, thinking long and hard. Draco tried not to let his eyes wander to her plump lips, so instead he looked over her shoulder, at a ballet poster of multiple positions. "Then I'll stay worrisome and continue to over-analyse."

Frustrated, Draco ran his hands through his hair. "Okay Granger, for five minutes, don't worry and don't over-analyse. I want to help you, so please don't over think what I'm about to do."

Not knowing what to expect, Hermione gave a tentative nod.

Slipping his hawthorn wand out of his pocket, Draco gave a swish and flick. An orange-like mist, that matched the haze it the room, swirled and landed a top Hermione's nose before disappearing. He returned his wand to its home, keeping his hand firmly on Hermione's mouth. "Before you ask," Draco started, "It's a simple Healing Spell. It rids of strep throat symptoms in roughly 12 hours." Hermione's eyes pleaded with a 'Thank you.' "You're welcome," he said a bit gruffly. "And by the way, we're even now."

In a quick instance, Hermione and Draco's eyes locked. In one swift motion, the hand was gone. Almost immediately Draco leaned forward and his lips met Hermione's straight on her mouth. No chin kisses or upper-lip misses, but perfectly straight on, like two puzzle pieces meeting as one. Hermione lifted her feet slightly, for there was a large height difference between the two.

The kiss broke after 10 seconds. Draco broke it. It was everything he had dreamed of-literally dreamed of being. Her lips looked slightly plumper than before, but that's what kissing did, he supposed.

They studied each other for a moment, at a loss for words. Draco, surprised at what his instincts and subconscious did. Hermione, shocked from the kiss she had received.

"Shit," Draco muttered after he swallowed, breaking the beautiful silence. His throat scratched slightly. "You're still contagious." He wanted to laugh. Hermione, even sick, caused Draco's emotions to go out of control. She was beautiful, he admitted. A beautiful being with a beautiful face. Beautiful.

"Sorry," Hermione said with absolutely no emotion. She was still star-struck over the kiss. Her neck began to turn red, and then travelled up to her cheeks and ears.

Draco took a step back carefully. He didn't want to break the moment. This moment, he knew, would haunt his dreams now. "I don't regret it. Not at all." He proclaimed, loud and clear once he reached the silver doorknob. His foot caught on the floor tilt beneath the door, but he didn't notice, his eyes were glued to Hermione's face. Her eyes. Her_ lips._

Clearing his throat, the knob turned half-way. "Your five minutes are up." And with that, the rehearsal door slammed shut, leaving Hermione still on her toes.

**A/N: WHO LIKED THIS CHAPTER?**

**If you DID...REVIEW! What did you like? Are you satisfied? Not? Interact with me!**

**I've been waiting to write this chapter for a while, so here it is! If this chapter made you happy, Review and tell me what part made you happy or laugh!**

**Happy Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza, or whatever you celebrate! Also, going back a few chapters, there is something strange about Lacey full name. Once you figure it out, tell me, and the first person to know will get mention next chapter!**

**And...I mention "It's A Wonderful Life" because on Christmas Eve (today) and as I type, I watch that film.**

**This A/N is too long! Please Review, Favourite and Follow if you liked it! I love you all! Christmas sweets all around!**


	16. Lost In My Mind

**A/N: Sorry for the update wait! I hope the chapter is worth it!**

**This chapter title comes from one of my favourite songs, "Lost In My Mind" by The Head and The Heart**

Draco had gotten strep throat from the kiss, but the moment he felt the familiar scratch and sting, he performed the spell. He tried not to think about the kiss. It made him get a stomach-ache, like little fireworks going off inside him. It was rather uncomfortable, but at other times, made him feel safe. It made him feel accomplished.

However, he still didn't feel ready to see Granger again. It was a sort of feeling deep inside of him, like a person trapped, screaming to get out, but at the same time, begging to stay in where nothing could happen but stay the same. Draco wanted to see where things would go with Hermione, but it was a risk. It could be all he hoped for and more, or it could be a kick in the face and he could land on his arse, worse than now.

Haley's ballet recital was tonight, which meant that he'd have to see Granger. She wouldn't be coming to his home to help prep Haley for her first show. There were mums up at the auditorium they were performing at to help. Some of the older dancers helped as well. Draco only knew all of this from the orange paper he retrieved during photo day. Instead of being the stupid dad, he knew everything he needed to know about the recital.

There was no flash photography as it distracted the dancers. All the choreography was created by Granger. The performance was being videotaped and DVD pre-orders were allowed to be placed before and after the show. Any forgery of any dance was strictly prohibited as it was original choreography. And all costumes must be paid for by a week before the performance.

That part had puzzled Malfoy. He didn't remember paying any extra fee for Haley's angelic costume. He didn't even _know _she had a costume that needed paying for until he got the paper. _If _he wasn't trying to avoid Granger he'd ask. But he was, so it'd stay a mystery for now.

The dancers had to be up at the theatre, which belonged to a local University, at five in the afternoon. The show started at seven, and Hermione had typed in big, bold letters, that **'ALL DANCERS MUST BE UP AT FIVE, NO EXCEPTIONS.' **To play it safe, Draco planned on dropping Haley off at 4:30.

Despite its sudden arrival, Draco was excited for his Little Bug's recital. She was getting to be a better dancer each and every day. Earlier, while he was preparing her soup, Haley ran around her house in her socks, doing turns and jumps, muttering broken French. It was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen. He imagined her a young woman, looking like mother but with blonde hair, in a large tutu, on stage as part of the London Ballet. She could be the main star. But Draco wanted to imagine her like this forever, a young girl, lost in the innocence of half a year of ballet training.

Draco at himself in the mirror. His hair had long since gone messy. After the war, he stopped gelling it. It took too much time in the morning, and since he became a Healer, it took out of his preparation time in the morning. Draco raked his hands through it, feeling it flow through his hands like silk. He had heavy bags under his eyes; he had the late night shift at St. Mungo's the previous night. His mother had stopped by to watch Haley. Her face still showed hurt from the last time he went home. As a kind gesture, Draco had dropped off some annual seeds without a note. She would know who it was from.

It was just after three in the afternoon, and Draco had sent Haley off to bed for a nap. Narcissa had informed him that she woke up three times last night from nightmares. She fell asleep in his arms after lunch, and he carried her up to her bed. Haley couldn't be falling asleep during her dance! Also, she had begun to get nervous for her recital. It was a blessing she fell asleep.

Draco took out two pieces of bread and slabbed peanut butter on one and raspberry jam on the other side. He kissed the pieces together and then cut it in half diagonally before placing the finished sandwich in a plastic bag. He planned on giving Haley the sandwich with blueberries and a juice box for her dinner. Normally she ate dinner at six however he wouldn't be there to feed her.

"Dae," came a meek voice. Draco had just finished folding the paper sack for Haley when he turned and saw her. She had a tiny blanket wrapped around her figure, and her cloud-like hair stood up on all ends. She had been tossing and turning until her hair became a static ball. "Nightmares."

And just like that, everything that had haunted Draco came back.

Hermione bustled around the theatre, trying to get all the backdrops in order. "Yes, yes, blue, then beige and _then _crimson." She spoke into a black headset that was wrapped around her head. She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yes, if you have to remember then you can use BBC as an acronym, just remember it!"

The stressed dancer let the headset fall around her neck as she hurried around. The auditorium didn't have any performers in it yet; why would it, it was only three. However, she had been here since nine in the morning, preparing things. She hadn't eaten all day; eating just took up time where she could be making the show perfect.

Besides herself, the only other person helping with props and sets was the theatre commissioner, Mandy. She wore an identical headset and worked mainly up in the booth, but walked down to the stage once in a while. Currently she sat on the stage pit, a movable front part of the stage, feeling the smoothness as it rode up and down, ascending and descending.

"Mandy?" Hermione asked, almost sprinting towards the young girl the same age as she. The wavy blonde haired girl looked up from her clipboard. "What's the status on the missing tape?" Earlier at around ten, the song for the seventh dance became missing. Hermione had a breakdown and almost threw up in the bathroom.

But the tape wasn't the only reason she felt so sick. Everything had been going along swimmingly until the tape mistake and that's when everything from the previous week had come crashing down. Hermione had been so busy preparing for the recital and dealing with finances that she hadn't really thought about everything that happened between her and Draco. However the moment something took her off track of her robot-like working, everything came crashing down.

The kiss. It felt amazing. Hermione didn't want to admit to it, but it did. It caused her stomach to twist into over a thousand knots. But it also made her feel sick. Sick to the core of her being. It was soft and kind and distorted her brain for a week. It felt so unlike Malfoy, and for a long time after the kiss, Hermione would subconsciously think about why he didn't kiss her again or why he hadn't tried to talk to her. She didn't count it as dwelling on the kiss or what it meant. It was merely a coping technique.

She hoped Draco hadn't thought about it as much as she had. It was girly of her, she knew, and aside from dancing, Hermione had never been much of a girly girl. But eventually she put on her big girl pants and continued on her day, only letting a tear or two slip past her cheeks now and then.

"There's a carton of old tapes that Lacey and some of the older girls are searching through right now." Mandy explained, with a wave of her hand, signalling the pit worker to stop the pit at the top. "They're over in the scene shop if you want to help them. I can take over props for now."

Hermione waved her hand at Mandy. "No don't bother, I'm sure they've got it under control." She hurried over the a microphone stand. "I'll check the mikes." During the beginning and end of the recital she'd use it, welcoming everyone and explaining that all electronics needed to be shut off during the show, and thanking them all for coming.

Hermione tapped the mike and cleared her throat. "Testing, testing. One two three." She heard her voice echo back and almost cringed. She _really_ hated her voice. And the microphone did no good to her posh accent. "Okay, that's working..." She thought and ticked a check list in her mind. The dressing rooms, one choir room, one band room, an actual dressing room, and a corner room for the boys in the show were all prepared with the needed necessities. Hairspray, bobby pins, hair-ties, make-up and extra hairpieces.

She wanted everything to go right for her first recital. It was going to, if she had any part in it.

Since this morning, Draco had been the last thing on Hermione's mind. But as the clock ticked nearer to five, she started to get worried. Would she see him? Would he try and talk to her? Would her try to kiss her again?

Hermione hurried to the choir dressing room. The young girls would be arriving soon and she wanted to explain to the rookies how the entire show would go down and to just watch their teachers. Dancers ages two to six had their teachers stand on the sides of the stage to copy their dance. It's hard for the young pupils to remember their dances, so two helpers would always be there.

Any thought or worry about Draco was pushed aside when Hermione saw a familiar face spot her. Haley Malfoy was currently getting her hair put back in a bun by one of the older girls. She gave a small wave and Hermione sent one back. If Haley was already getting her hair done, that meant that Draco had been and gone. Hermione released an unknown withheld breath, and swiftly made her way to the young girl. By the time she reached her, Haley's had a wavy bun that was being bobby pinned.

"Afternoon, Haley," Hermione smiled, squatting to get eye to eye with the young Malfoy. Her face was slightly puffy and the elder witch could tell it was from the nightmares.

"Hi, Miss Herm-oh-nigh," Haley said with a wide smile. Her teeth were straight minus a missing one in the bottom front. A new adult tooth was already peeking through her pink gums. "Today I'm gonna dance!"

Hermione couldn't help but widen her smile. Haley was an adorable child, and some days she'd sit and think how lucky Malfoy was to have a beautifully wonderful daughter and how it was so, considering she was half him. "You are!" She exclaimed, taking Haley's small hand. "Aren't you excited?"

The blonde nodded her head of hair vigorously, causing the girl working on the bun to mess up. She missed the bun and a bobby pin could be heard clanging to the ground. Hermione reached down and retrieved the pin, handing it back to the older girl whose name was Julia.

"Thank you," Julia mumbled in a quiet voice. Hermione nodded and whispered her own, "You're welcome," before diverting her attention back to the bumbling girl in front of her. Haley's hands gripped the sides of the black and purple stool she sat on, making her knuckles go white.

Hermione put her hands on Haley's snowy white ones. "No, don't do that," she said, loosening her grip on the chair. "Don't be nervous, it's lots of fun." She promised, grabbing a pallet of make-up from on top of a shiny, coal-coloured piano next to her. "You don't look like you have make-up on, Haley," The little girl shook her head. "Would you like me to do it for you?"

"Can you please?" Haley asked politely, her lip sticking out in a pouty form, trying to seem innocent. It was working on Hermione and she gave a laugh.

"Of course, only for you Miss Malfoy." Hermione took a bit of foundation and blush, and gently brushed it along Haley's cheekbones and nose. Both girls gave small coughs as some of the powder flew into their mouths. Since Haley's costume was white, Hermione thought it'd be appropriate to give her sparkling whitish silver eye-shadow. She didn't add too much; Draco would probably get angry. All the dancers had to wear eye-liner, so she took the smallest pencil for Haley's eyes. "Close your eyes, please." Haley did as instructed and Hermione drew a line from the bottom middle of her eyelid to the back. Then she slowly drew smaller lines up and back until there was a full line. As a nice touch, Hermione added a small wing at the end of the line. She repeated with the other eye, added some mascara and lip-gloss, and voila! Haley Malfoy looked like a ballerina. "Go look in the mirror," Hermione suggested, and helped Haley down from the stool.

In a jiffy Haley was staring at herself in the mirror, squealing from delight. Hermione watched from afar, smiling to herself. The young girl hurried back and looked up, straining her neck slightly. "Thank you so much," Haley thanked, trying to contain her excitement by hopping in place.

For the second time in ten minutes, Hermione said, "You're welcome." But she frowned after Haley ran away. When would she be able to thank someone for something they did for _her_? Too often she had been on the giving side of things, and although she loved giving and helping, she wanted someone to go out of their way to do something just for her. Her and no one else. It may have seemed selfish, but so far Hermione had lived a fairly selfless life. She deserved a break.

She pushed those thoughts far back in her brain, however, and continued to run around, making the show seemingly perfect.

There wasn't a long line to get into the show. Some people had bought their tickets ahead of time and others (Draco included) were rookies and decided to wait until the last second to buy. What was worse, was that the tickets were assigned seating, so Draco might not even get a good seat or a seat at all. He patiently waited in the lobby, trying to warm himself by rubbing his hands together. Some wise-guy decided to keep the front door open since it was too heavy to re-open, and now the entire lobby felt like an icebox.

Gratefully, the line grew smaller and smaller until Draco was in the front. He had brought along one-thousand pounds since he didn't know the currency well, and only ended up paying ten. He hurried in, the time ticking down to 6:50. A Malfoy was never late for anything. Ballet recitals included. He whipped the ticket out from his pocket, G25. It was the seventh row, which wasn't too shabby, it was about middle, and at the very end on the right. Draco kept telling himself that they were fine seats and to at least be happy he got in.

Next to G25 was a woman with silky dark brown hair next to a man with lighter, curly brown hair and a boy with bright red hair. Draco inwardly laughed. _The gingers are taking over the world!_ He sat down quietly, trying to go unnoticed.

As he walked into the theatre, a nice lady with blonde hair had handed him a program. Apparently the recital was called, "A Dance in the Snow." The program was a light blue colour, probably to symbolise snow...if snow were blue, and of course, Granger's name was on the front. "Artistic Director: Hermione Granger," Draco whispered aloud. It sounded a bit fancy and it made Draco wondered just _what_ did Granger do?

He leafed through the program, not seeing anything that caught his attention. He was about to toss it aside when he came to the dance order page. In Act I, the fifth dance, said, **HEAVENLY ANGELS. **Draco raised his eyebrows and followed a line of dots to the right side of the page. It said **Pre-Ballet: Caroline DeVonn, Evangeline Heffley, Clara Lyon, Haley Malfoy, Karen Preston, Kate Preston. **

"There's my girl," Draco smiled proudly, and let his finger brush over her name. He glanced up to see the raven-haired woman looking at him and the place his finger rest.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The woman exclaimed, slapping her hand to her mouth. Her face began to turn beet red and she stuck out her other hand. "I assume you're Haley's father, Mr Malfoy?" She asked with a hopeful face.

Draco took her hand and shook it, giving a small chuckle at her composure. "Yes, I am. Draco Malfoy," he said, taking back his hand. "I'm sorry," he said giving a laugh, "but I don't know who you are?"

The woman looked extremely embarrassed again and laughed herself. It was a deep and rather like a chuckle than a high pitched giggle Draco had gotten from his wife. "I'm so sorry, I'm Ruth Heffley." She pointed to her husband who gave a wave. Draco wasn't listening to catch his name, and then their son, Ryan Heffley. "I don't know if Haley told you, but your daughter and my daughter, Evangeline, are best friends."

Draco knit his eyebrows together. She must've been the ginger during picture day. "No, she hasn't mentioned at Evangeline...Best friends you say?" Ruth gave a nod.

"Oh yes," Ruth reassured. "Evangeline arrives after Haley, and your cute little daughter is always standing by the door, her face pressed up against the glass," she gave a bad impression of someone searching for something. "Or before classes they'll sit and watch the telly together or I'll see them giggling in a corner about something or other." Ruth gave a small laugh of her own, remembering the memories of not too long ago. "But what I wanted to talk to you about was that the pair of them came up to me after pictures and Evangeline asked me if Haley could come over and spend the night sometime soon. I told them I'd have to meet and speak with one of Haley's parents, and well, here you are!" She gave another hearty laugh, and Draco laughed back nervously.

"Yes, here I am!" He tried to say enthusiastically. "Well, I know Haley would love to spend the night. Evangeline is her first friend and I think it's a great idea." Draco smiled genuinely. However, the conversation felt weird to him. Was _this _was parents always talked about when he was younger? If so, he was not excited about having more of these conversation.

"That sounds great!" Ruth touched her husband's arm. "Ned, isn't that great?" _Ned. _"That's absolutely wonderful, Draco, when shall it happen?" She exclaimed, pulling out a planner and a pen. She seemed more excited for her daughter's play-date than her daughter.

Draco's eyebrows rose with Ruth's eagerness. "Oh well, um..." he started, "Well, Haley has sort of...a sleeping problem..."

Ruth gave a puzzled look. "Does she not do well away from home?" She asked, "Or is it some sort of juvenile sleep apnoea?" Draco let the energetic woman keep talking and rambling until she stopped.

The Malfoy gave a laugh from pure humour of the woman. "No, none of those things." He laughed. "Actually, Haley doesn't sleep well. She has bad dreams often," he admitted, looking at the program. "But I'm sure she'll be fine. No worries. Why don't we go for New Year's Eve? I'm fine with that, besides-" The last part was cut off by a voice Draco recognised as Hermione's.

The lights dimmed and Hermione stood on stage, a microphone clasped in one hand and a program clasped in the other. "Hello everyone," she said, her voice echoing back into the crowd. "I am Hermione Granger, the Artistic Director, and I'd like to welcome you all to The Young Dancers of London's winter show, 'A Dance in the Snow.'" Her voice sounded slightly vibrato, shaking like she was nervous. "It's been quite a long journey to get all the dancers you see tonight on stage, but it's been a great one. I'd like to ask you all to silence or power down any electronics or light-emitting or noise-making items you have for the respect of people around you. I'd also like to remind everyone that flash photography is not allowed, for the flash can distract our dancers." By this time, Granger's voice was fairing strong now, unshaken and ready to take on the world. "Thank you all again for coming and enjoy the show."

The curtain closed, but Draco couldn't stop staring at the spot where Granger had stood. Her hair had been half-way straightened to a less puffy mess without losing it's curl. She was wearing more make-up than Draco had ever seen her wear, minus the Yule Ball. Scratch that, she had been wearing cherry-coloured lip-gloss and lots of blush, two things more than the Yule Ball. She wore a small black skirt that looked like it was made entirely of feathers and a silky ballet pink scoop-neck. She was beautiful, she hadn't looked like Granger. She seemed like a transfixing photocopy.

Before Draco knew it, the spot was no longer visible and the curtains opened, revealing a group of girls and one boy. Reading the program (he had to squint in the darkness) Draco learned that the piece was called "The Snow Celebrate" and the dancers were to symbolise 'snowflakes in rejoice to Christmastime.' At least that's what the program said.

The second dance was different than the first. It was tap, not ballet, and it was younger children. They seemed well together though, and the crowd seemed to like them. The next two dances were jazz, both with the similar cheesy Christmas songs. The next one was Haley's, and Draco sat up a bit straighter in his seat.

Two older girls skipped in with the Haley's class and set them in their spots before stationing at the two sides of the stage. Melodic music began to play, and it sounded like some heavenly church hymn. Haley was biting her lip and watching the older girl furthest from Draco. He couldn't get a good look at her face, but she was dancing well. She turn in a small circle on her toes and then pointed her toes to the front, right foot, left foot, right foot, left. The six girls swarmed into two circles and Haley was holding onto the ginger girl, Evangeline's, hand. The song was much too short and the girls finished where they started.

Draco hooped and hollered as Haley shuffled off. "Go Bug!" She called, and Haley turned her head just in time to see her father clapping like a maniac.

The rest of the recital was a blur. The dances were great and well choreographed, but Draco was beaming with so much pride it blinded his brain. He reminded himself to tell Granger it was great if he was brave enough to ever speak to her again. He wished he'd just grow a pair and forget like anything happened, living things normally again. He could only pray.

At the end, all the dancers came out in lines, categorised by dance. Since Haley was in one of the youngest classes, she was second-to-last to bow. Draco clapped wildly again, a smile stuck on his face. He whistled and called Haley's name again, standing up. She looked so happy and excited up on the stage. Draco knew now that Haley would excel in her dancing. Hermione came up to the front as the dancers clapped. She bowed and Haley came up to the front, giving her a bouquet of flower.

Once the clapping ceased, Hermione motioned for everyone to sit down. "Thank you, thank you," she said into the microphone. "I'm so glad you all came and I hope this was enjoyable! I'd like to take a moment to recognise some beautiful people involved in this company. When I say your name, please come to the front." Draco rolled his eyes. This was going to take some time. "Devon Lyon, Seraiah Kingston, Whitney Watterson and Julia Alton." Four dancers, one boy and three girls, made their ways to the front. The girls were crying and hugging and the boy gave a sad smile. "These wonderful dancers are graduating this year and will be leaving us. This was their last winter show and if you see them afterwards, wish them congrats. Thank you all again for coming and goodnight." The curtain closed, Hermione disappearing behind it.

Draco stood, finally able to stretch his long legs since the Intermission. It had been fairly short, 10 minutes, and uneventful for the most part. Ruth had tried to engage in more conversation, but Draco had excused himself to the bathroom and hid behind a door for awhile. In the orange paper, it said to pick up your dancer after the show where you dropped them off. So Draco hurried to the choir room, which was just a quick left after leaving through the nearest door.

He was about to walk in when he spotted an orange note taped on the door. "Granger must really like orange..." Draco muttered, glancing at the paper. It was a short note, saying **Only Mums, Grandmothers and Dancers Allowed Past This Point, Thank You!** It was written in Hermione's unerringly loopy penmanship, with the i's tittle dotted as a heart.

"Bloody brilliant, Granger," Draco muttered, putting his back up against the wall. Now he couldn't get to his daughter to take her home, possibly out to ice-cream first. But none of that could happen, he'd just have to wait until the everyone else cleared out.

Draco played with his hands, picking at a small hangnail on his right thumb. It began to bleed, and he stuck his thumb into his mouth, trying to suck the blood away. He ears felt numb, and he didn't even heard the distant sounds of Hermione's voice laughing. It picked up volume and before he knew it, she stood in front of him.

"Draco?" She asked, and he glanced up, shoving his thumb away from his mouth. "What are you doing out here? Where's Haley?" Up close, he noticed dark shadows under Hermione's eyes and her eyes were a bit watery. Her nose was tinted red, probably from sharing tears with the four recognised dancers.

Malfoy cocked his head to the door. "I would have her but your blasted sign says I can't go. People can't be naked, why can't I go in?"

Hermione laughed and moved towards the door. "They are naked, actually. Changing." Draco looked down and stifled a chuckle. "I'll get Haley for you, just wait a moment." She opened the door and stepped in, searching for the young girl. It felt strange that after going through something so intimate as sharing a kiss, that she and Draco could go back to just talking normal. Maybe it was just their personalities, but everything felt alright, like an unspoken connection between the two had settled the tension.

Soon the pair of dancers returned with costume in hand. Haley looked exhausted and Hermione didn't look any more awake. Draco opened his arms widely and Haley snuggled up to him. "You did so good, Bug. You were perfect."

Haley squeezed her dad in embrace. "Thank you Dae. I na noo." She whispered in his ears. Draco gave a little laugh and squeezed her back, only a bit.

"I na noo, too." Hermione watched the pair and felt a bit of jealousy. Draco really had found a happy life out of the ruins of his family. Where was she? She owned a dance studio, whoop-de-doo. When was she going to love someone as much as Draco loved Haley? She was never good at loving people more than platonic.

Draco cleared his throat, standing up with Haley's hand in his. He met Hermione's eyes and motioned with his towards the small costume bag. "I never paid for Haley's costume," he admitted. "Or at least, I mean, you never asked me about it."

Hermione crossed her arms, knitting her eyebrows together. "Are you sure?" She asked, mentally going through all the records and cross-records. "I thought for sure everyone had paid..." Draco shook his head and took out his wallet.

"I'll pay you for it. How many Muggle notes? I have nine hundred and ninety." Hermione almost laughed out loud. For someone who didn't use Muggle money, Draco sure had a lot of it.

She waved her hand over the bills, dismissing the thought of even taking one pound from Draco for his troubles. "No charge, no charge. It got paid somehow. You're already paying me more for Haley, I can't ask you to pay for the costume."

Draco held out the wad. "Take it, please, it'll make me feel better if you do. Just take it. Please," he pleaded, practically waving the money in front of Hermione's nose. She groaned, feeling an immense amount of déjà vu, and grabbed about ninety pounds. Draco smirked, happy with the transaction. He glanced down at Haley. "Why don't we go get some ice-cream to celebrate on your first recital? Let's go." They began to leave and Draco glimpsed back up at Hermione. "I hope it wasn't my fault about the mix-up, I feel bad."

Hermione shook her head and gave a laugh as she spotted Haley pulling at Draco to move faster. "It wasn't," she reasoned. "Must've just been a slip of my mind."

**A/N: This is going to be a fast A/N because I have about two minutes until I am going to explode from being tired.**

**Congrats to Kekepania1 for figuring out Lacey's strange name. Her full name spells out her last name. (L)acey (A)nn (M)arie (M)organ (E)ponine (L)isa (L)ammell  
**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I know its a bit of a filler but all stories can't be exciting every chapter right? This chapter basically summed up a recital from my Academy in one chapter. It's much more hectic behind the scenes, but obviously there was a reason that focussed on Draco then, right?**

**I have a Tumblr where I announce when I'll be updating or why it's taking so long (this time being Holidays) and I am hpfreakforlife. So just Follow me for updates.**

**As I usually say, please Review if you liked this chapter or you want to predict anything (there is a lot of foreshadowing in my stories ;) ) or if you want to say hi or something! Also Follow to find out when I update and Favourite please, if you really like this story!**

**-Eagles**

**P.S. NEWEST LONGEST CHAPTER!  
**


	17. May All Your Days Be Merry

**A/N: Hi guys! Sorry this is a super long chapter. I had a bit of trouble with one... But NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE WORTH IT I PROMISE!**

**This chapter title comes from the song, "White Christmas" from the film, _White Christmas_.**

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," Ginny said, as the two girls passed each other in the Burrow. Hermione had spent the night at the Weasley's. Her best friend had persuaded her to, saying that no one should wake up on Christmas day in a lonely flat. Hermione tried not to let it bother her that she lived in a flat alone, but Ginny's accidental comment hit her hard.

She bit her lip. "Happy Christmas, Ginny," she said back. She was headed towards the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth before she headed down to open her presents. The Weasley family still gave her presents, even being 25 years old. Lacey planned on Apparating over at 10, which was perfectly fine by Hermione's standards. Christmas Day was Lacey and Isaac's anniversary, and the former Gryffindor knew her American friend would spend the wee hours of the morning eating chocolate and crying over nostalgic memories. She needed some support to get through the rest of the day.

Hermione let the hot water rain down on her face, creating steam that billowed through the top of the shower. Her hand brushed against the shower curtain as she blindly reached for the shampoo. She had finally caught up on her sleep from the recital, but she didn't have much more time. The annual dance competition was in the middle of February, and rehearsals would take up lots of time in January.

She stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her body and another in her hair. Checking and then double-checking that the door was locked, Hermione bent forward and grabbed her extra toothbrush she kept at the Burrow. It was Gryffindor scarlet. She hurried and cleaned her shrunken teeth.

With a hop, skip, and a jump back to her room, Hermione got dressed for the day. She slid on jeans and a light t-shirt, knowing everyone would wear their Weasley family jumpers once they were all opened. Molly had begun to knit one for her once Ron and her began to date. Even while Hermione was in America, her former future mum in-law still sent her warm emerald jumpers.

Emerald. It was a funny colour. At once point, it was the colour of a jumper. Another time, it was the hue of her best friends' eyes. Again, it was the shade of a deadly curse. But then it was also the tone of a misjudged House.

Hermione didn't have to heart to tell Molly she didn't like the emerald.

Hurrying down to the sitting room, the Muggle-born witch found the entire Weasley family, including Harry, sitting around a wide, blue spruce evergreen. "There you are, Hermione," George said, attempting a smile. He hadn't been able to have a full, "George Weasley" smile ever since Fred died, but it was getting there. "We've been waiting for ages."

She smiled, and sat on the sofa arm, pulling up her inside leg to her chest. "Sorry guys, I didn't mean to take such a long shower," she muttered. "There's been a lot on my mind."

Molly laughed. "It's quite alright dear, no one's taking you to court for taking your time," she said. She sat next to her husband, and they were holding hands. Arthur stroked his wife's hand gently with his thumb. Hermione watched the pair with slight envy. She thought her and Ron would have that kind of love, but it wasn't meant to be.

All of the 'kids' went first, opening their jumpers up. As usual, Ron got maroon. George got his normal blue jumper with a giant yellow, "G" on the front. Charlie got his, Harry, too, and Ginny. Percy was there, and he held his jumper close to him like a lifeline. Bill wasn't there. Fleur and him were having Christmas with Victoire at Shell Cottage. Underneath the tree left an unopened jumper from Molly. Everyone knew who it was to.

Hermione opened her's and with a shock found it not to be emerald, but white. "Sorry, dear," Molly said, sitting up, "I used up all the green on Victoire's. It's her favourite colour. I thought you'd understand more than a six year old."

The jumper had a giant black "H," making it the most two-dimensional of all the presents. "It's perfect," Hermione said. "Of course I understand, it's fine. You didn't even have to knit me one..."

"No, no. I could never do that," Molly insisted. "You're family." Hermione felt her stomach clench. She didn't feel like family. She felt like a traitor.

The rest of the presents were opened. Harry got Hermione a collection of different coloured quills and inks. Ron got her a wand cleaner. Ginny got her an assortment of chocolates and fuzzy socks, and from George she received coupons for the joke shop. Percy and Charlie didn't get her anything; she wasn't as close to the pair.

Lacey arrived soon afterwards. Hermione presented her with a nice scarf. "I feel bad," Lacey said after opening the gift. "I left your present at my flat. I didn't know you'd have mine now."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "It's fine," she said. "Truly, it's fine. I can just get it later," she shrugged on her jumper as she spoke.

The blonde American gave a confused look. "Why isn't your sweater green? It's usually green..." Lacey didn't acquire a Weasley jumper since she hadn't been part of the clan for long enough. Molly had made her one the first year, but Hermione and Lacey had only been friends for two months and Lacey was uncomfortable taking it. The teal jumper was hung in the closet for permanent until proven temporary. It was still permanent at the moment.

"Molly used all the green string on Victoire's jumper. She gave me white instead," Hermione explained, looking down at her body.

Lacey looked at her and nodded. "The white looks nice. Usually they say white makes you look heavier, but on you, you actually look slimmer, Hermione!" she blushed at the compliment. "Way to contradict fashion science."

Ginny joined the conversation and the three girls ended up in the corner, chatting from jumpers to musicals, and period stories to the wedding coming up in six days. "Aren't you at all nervous?" Lacey asked Ginny curiously.

The ginger shook her head. "No," she answered. "Well, at least not a lot. Maybe just a little. But I'm marrying the man I am in love with, why would I be nervous for happiness?" Lacey and Hermione gave little mumbles of agreement. "It is becoming surreal though. Lacey, you have a date, right?"

Lacey nodded her head. "Actually, it's not a date, more of a...companion accompanying me. It's my cousin, Daniel. He's wanted to visit me and I invited him," she stated. "It was a relief when I found out I finally got that date filled."

Lacey originally invited Isaac to the wedding, but ever since that fell through, she'd been searching for another date. "Hermione, did you find someone?" Ginny asked.

The brunette had zoned out, playing with her hot cocoa Molly had warmed for them. "What?" she asked, coming back to reality. Ginny reiterated her question. "I didn't think I checked, 'Plus one,'" Hermione said after some thought.

Ginny brought her cup to her lip and shook her head. "You didn't, but I still want you to come with a date. Since I'm not having a wedding party, I need you to come with a date to take wedding party-like pictures. Or you could take pictures with someone else from the faux-wedding party..." Ginny thought. "Either way, you need to be in some sort of couple."

Hermione groaned. She didn't want to take anyone. "That's ridiculous, Ginny, I'm not going through with it," she persisted. The soon-to-be Potter gave a small laugh.

"I thought you'd say that," she said. "Ron said the same thing. I thought you might want to have the option of choosing someone to bring rather than being paired with my brother. But if there's really no one else...?"

Ginny gave Hermione a few moment to think. She couldn't invite Draco, could she? Sure, Ginny might allow it, but what about Harry? And what about the kiss? Would there be awkward tension? There wasn't any at the recital, but being with each other for a full night as dates might bring on some sort of tension.

Hermione harrumphed, and met Ginny's gaze. "There's no one else," she said in a rather small voice, especially for her. "I'll just go with Ron." The thought of going with Ron, although it didn't worry her as much as going with Draco, still made Hermione squirm.

The two girls in front of Hermione looked shocked. "Are you sure?" Lacey asked, putting a protective hand on her arm. "What if tries to pull some shit or tries to kiss you? You saw how he was last time..."

Hermione's eyes were slightly watery at the thought. She didn't want to act like they did in their relationship again. Ron would kiss her, love her and then get drunk, muttering to himself that he could get something better. Sometimes he'd yell at Hermione, fighting about small things, like unwashed dishes or bras lying around. But Ron would be drunk and was not of sane mind. Hermione didn't want to marry an alcoholic who yelled at her. "I can handle myself," she persisted. "That was many, many years ago, I'm older now. I'm fine with it, really."

The small triangle of girls split as Ginny stood up. She hurried over to Ron to tell him of the news. "You're going with Hermione to the wedding," she said, sitting beside her older brother. Luckily, her mum forbid any drinking so early on Christmas day.

Ron raised one eyebrow. "I'm what? Ginny, I don't know if that's a great idea, I mean...we used to date and-"

"Hermione's the one who said yes, not me," the youngest Weasley added. Both of Ron's eyebrows rose in complete and utter shock. "And I'm going to warn you ahead of time," Ginny started. Ron rolled his eyes. "Look at me!" she whispered in an angry voice. Taken aback, he diverted his attention to his younger sister. "You will not drink an ounce of alcohol, do you hear me? If I see you with one pint of brandy, or one chute of champagne, Merlin so help me, I will beat you down," Ginny said, grabbing Ron's arm. "You are a bastard with one drop of alcohol and obnoxious when drunk," she said obviously. "So if I catch you with any type of alcoholic drink, I will no longer call you my brother, do you understand?"

Ron swallowed hard, truly frightened by his sister's harsh words. He grabbed his arm back. "Yes! Merlin Ginny, where'd you learn to squeeze someone's arms so hard their veins pop out?" he asked, pointing to his elevated vein.

Ginny rolled her eyes and popped off the sofa, going back to Lacey and Hermione. The Neapolitan trio continued to chatter about this and that. "We can go shopping for dresses for the wedding, Hermione," Lacey suggested.

The former Gryffindor shook her head, her frizzy brown hair bobbed along her shoulders. "No, I have a dress already picked out."

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, DADDY!" Haley yelled, each 'Daddy' getting louder and louder. She pounced on Draco, jiggling the mattress. Malfoy groaned, trying to cover his face with the duvet. "It's Christmas, Daddy!" she screamed in his ear.

Draco laughed and grabbed Haley around her abdomen and pushed her down gently. He gave an evil giggle and kissed her cheeks. The young girl squealed and her father proceeded to tickle her over and over again. The two wrestled and laughed together. "Is it Christmas?" Draco asked in a high voice. He lifted Haley up and then softly pounded her back onto the bed. This was repeated multiple times.

The pair ended up laughing on the bed. Draco took a single finger and touched Haley's nose with it. "Do you want your presents?" he asked her. Haley nodded and giggled when Draco touched her nose. The father-daughter couple raced each other downstairs. Beneath the tree held six, nicely wrapped presents for Haley. He had bought a few more extra presents for her after the recital and was excited for her to open them.

Haley sped over to the tree, her face wide and happy. "All of this for me, Daddy?" she asked. Draco nodded and sat down on the settee. "Which one should I open?" she asked, looking between the pile and her father.

"Try the gold one," he said, pointing to a shimmering gold package with a matching gold bow. The little girl grabbed it and practically tore the wrapping paper into little pieces of confetti. As usual, it was a kitty cat stuffed animal. Haley hugged it to her chest for a brief moment before setting it aside. She muttered the name, "Lila," the apparent nickname for the toy.

Haley grabbed the silver present next. That one contained her pink pyjamas and, for an extra surprise, matching slippers. "Thanks, Dae, I yov them," she said. The young Malfoy hurried forward to her father and planted a long kiss on his cheek.

"You're welcome, Princess," he said, kissing her cheek back. "Go open the purple one, now." Haley obeyed her father and received the gift. It was a locket, engraved on the front said the name 'Haley.'

"That's my name!" she exclaimed, looking at the locket closer. The next present was even better; a new leotard and tights.

"I got them from your dance school. One of the older girls helped me pick them out," Draco explained. "The next one is a similar present."

The fifth present was probably the best. It was a pair of toe shoes. Pointe shoes, to be precise. They were a small pair. Haley couldn't wear them now, of course, she was much too young. "It's a goal that you can strive for," he offered. Haley grinned, absolutely excited.

"I love it. Dae, I love it!" she exclaimed. Haley wondered how her father could top this gift with one more! The last gift, wrapped in shining bronze wrapping paper, was rather light in weight. Haley ripped the paper slowly, unfurling the present.

It was a slow reaction. Haley was a bit surprised. She had expected this present to top all of the others, but it didn't. It was a short, green dress. It had a small black shoulder jumper to go with it. "Thanks, Dae," Haley said, a little less enthusiastic. She was expecting something a bit more after the pointe shoes.

"That's not all," Draco smiled. "You get to wear that when you go to Evangeline's house to spend the night," he said with a wide smile. Haley's eyes instantly grew and her mouth opened tremendously.

"I get to go to Evangeline's?" she yelled, her voice squeaking. Draco nodded, and his almost five year old daughter jumped up and down. He sat back and watched as she ran around their cottage, screaming with excitement.

Draco let her run around as he cleaned up the mini pieces of shiny wrapping paper. He put them all in the empty boxes and threw them away. Then he put all of Haley's gifts in a small, orderly pile. Haley sped past Draco and he laughed, picking her up and then setting her on the sofa. "Bug, you don't even know when you're going!" he laughed.

"When?" Haley asked, jumping on the sofa. Draco went to pause her hopping, but thought better of it. She'd just start running again.

"New Year's Eve," Draco answered. Haley gave a troubled look, trying to remember when that was. "It's in six days, sweetie," he clarified. His daughter gave a happy look and finally dropped down to sit still. "Now, you have to behave, okay? You're the guest and –" Draco was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in," he called.

Throwing open the door, Narcissa walked into the cottage, brushing off snow from her shoulders. "You really need to get that door fixed, Draco, it's quite difficult to get open," she said, shrugging off her coat. She looked around to set it down somewhere.

"Just place it on the dining table, Mother," he called over. Narcissa seemed absolutely appalled at the thought, but set down her fur coat anyway. "Is it snowing?" he asked curiously.

Narcissa nodded, making her way to the sitting room. "Yes, a bit; it only just began," she spotted her only granddaughter and her smile increased. "Happy Christmas, my darling," she said, kissing Haley's forehead.

"Happy Christmas, Gamma! Come see what I got from Dae!" Haley motioned for her grandmother to come look at the small pile of presents.

Draco's wife had always disproved of the thought of Santa Claus bringing presents to their daughter and didn't want the thought planted in her head. Draco thought differently. He never had the childhood where he could believe in made-up things. His father forbid it. His wife, however, found it completely made life seem like a big fairytale, and when reality kicked in, it was a tough transition. Draco didn't fight with her. He hadn't the energy then. To this day he couldn't remember why he was so out of energy during that discussion. Maybe he'd been awake with a sleepless Haley, or maybe he'd gone running. Either way, Haley never even heard of Santa Claus.

"Those are very nice, Haley. Your father takes good care of you," Narcissa said, giving Draco a soft smile.

"I was raised by the best," he smiled back at his mum. "Haley, since its snowing, do you want to go sledding?" he suggested.

Haley shook her head. "It's Christmas, Dae. We can't go sledding! We need to watch Christmas films!" she exclaimed, popping on the sofa. "C'mon Dae, films!" she repeated. With a groan, Draco sat beside Haley, hugging her to his lap. "C'mon, Mum, join us." Narcissa smiled and sat beside the pair. As a small family, they watched the films together.

XXX

"This isn't exactly a perfect hen night, but it'll do," Hermione said as her, Ginny and Lacey made their way to a local pub, The Irish Tumbler. The night was cold and snowy; the 30th of December should be.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't care," she said. "The drinks will be enough. Maybe you two can hit on some guys for entertainment," she laughed. The three musketeers hurried into the pub, sighing from the warmth.

Hermione undid her scarf, setting it on her seat in the booth. Ginny had a big pink lei around her neck. She had offered a yellow one to Hermione and a black one to Lacey, but they insisted that it was her hen night, she was supposed to be the special one.

"We have a bride in the house!" Lacey exclaimed as they ordered their drinks. The waitress was rather unimpressed and quiet. The blonde quieted and tried to make herself as small as she could. The pub was rather dead for the day before New Year's, and it was 10 at night, a prime time for bars.

"Maybe this wasn't such the best place for a hen night," Ginny mumbled. Hermione felt bad. Since her best friend didn't have a maid of honour, no one planned the hen night for her. They actually forgot about it prior to yesterday.

Hermione bit her lip as their tequila shots came. "Don't think that, Gin, we can still make it work," she insisted. "In fact," she smiled, "I have a little idea. After we're done here, I think I know exactly what to do."

Lacey and Ginny gave each other unsure looks and shrugged, chugging their shots simultaneously. Hermione grinned and thought back to a book she read, remembering a certain spell. She sipped her shot, excited with the thought of her perfect idea.

Once the trio had a safe amount of alcohol in them, they left the pub, and Hermione led the way to a small wood. It was near a farm and a small light lit the trees around the area. She smiled and pulled out her wand.

"Let me see your wands, girls," she instructed. Lacey and Ginny shared another look before reluctantly handing over their loyal wands. Hermione mumbled an inaudible spell with their two wands. She handed back her friends' wands

Hermione transfigured her outfit and her friends' into bridesmaid dresses. Hermione's was pea green, Lacey's was mustard yellow, and Ginny's bore a burnt shade of orange. "These are disgusting," Lacey noted, looking down at the pleated skirt.

The conniving witch grinned and muttered the same spell on her own wand. She pointed it at Lacey and thrust it forward. A splatter of neon pink paint slapped itself onto Lacey's chest. "That's the point," she smirked. "It's Wizard Paint ball."

The three girls squealed and ran, trying to avoid each other and their paint weapons. Hermione ran behind an oak tree, giggling furiously as they stalked each other like lions in the savannah. She turned and looked; no movement so far.

It was quiet for a few minutes while the girls contemplated fire. Hermione took a chance and looked through a small peep-hole in the tree. She glimpsed and saw Lacey's hair pulled back into a high bun, and her face had paint on it, forming a warrior look.

Hermione tumbled and jumped, shooting at Lacey. She got her chest, but got hit on her wand arm. Navy paint fell down to her finger.

A Native American sounding call rang through the woods, and Hermione turned, seeing Ginny race at her, her wand erected at Hermione. A splotch of purple paint flew out and hit her straight on her forehead.

The three girls continued to battle it out, paint ball style. The ugly dresses were soon ruined with neon rainbow colours sprayed along all three of their bodies. Ginny's face was mostly covered in mauve, while Lacey sported more teal. Hermione's face was a deep red, almost like blood.

"Is this a better hen night?" Hermione asked with a laugh as they hurried back out of the woods. The trees they had used for covering had been beat senseless by the bewitched wands. From one angle, it almost looked like an impressionist painting.

Ginny nodded, giggling and chuckling at the memory. "It's been the best night I've had in a while, actually," she admitted. She slung her arms around the shoulders of Lacey and Hermione as they strolled the streets at night.

"That's good," Lacey smiled. "Because once you get married, each night will basically be the same. Fall asleep sleeping with the same man beside you, doing the same things. This is what a hen night is for, doing something you never do again," she reasoned.

Ginny's throat tightened. "Oh, don't worry," Hermione said to Ginny, sensing her friend's anxiety. "You're going to have a great time being married. You love Harry, he loves you, don't fret," she said, patting her back. "We can still do fun nights like tonight. You can always use a little girl time."

The three girls made it back to the Burrow safely. As a finisher to the night, they stood in the garden and sprayed each other down with an _Aguamenti._ They raced around the house, air drying off and tumbling around to get out any other little child wiggles they had.

"Tomorrow is going to change your life forever," Hermione told Ginny as they walked through the threshold. She went to the pantry, hungry for something to eat.

Ginny sat at the table, fiddling with some dry paint on her pinky. Lacey sat down beside her, undoing her hair from its messy bun. "No," she disagreed. "Tomorrow is going to change _our _lives forever."

**A/N: I have been meaning to say this but I forgot...**

**But I apologise if you have trouble understanding Haley and Draco vernacular when they talked to each other. "Dae," "na noo," and "yov" are all things my sister and I used to say when we were little (and sometimes still say). But I thought I'd incorporate that into here! **

**I am sad to say that I feel like I've lost some readers :/ Some of my most high-actioned chapters didn't get recognise by my most faithful readers and I just hope I am not boring anyone! Trust me when I say next chapter will be the best yet!**

**So, it's late at night...I should sleep...**

**G'night! Or G'day, wherever you live!**

**~Eagles **


	18. A Moment of Love

**A/N: OMIGOSH! I love this chapter! More A/N at the bottom explaining my absence. Don't read it until you've read the chapter though. **

**Chapter title comes from the song "Sweet Disposition" by The Temper Trap :)**

"Something blue! I nearly forgot! I need something blue!" Ginny exclaimed as she stood in her knickers in front of the mirror. Hermione was already rummaging through her drawers to find something for her best friend to wear.

She retrieved a blue bracelet from the back of the top drawer. "Will this work?" she asked, tossing it over to the ginger's line of vision. Ginny was busy putting on an earring when the bracelet was flung, so it hit the mirror and fell with a clatter.

Bending down, Ginny grabbed the aquamarine bracelet and slipped it on. "It'll be fine," she said, fixing her bun for at least the third time in a minute. Hermione ran over to the other side of the small room to grab Ginny's garter and dress. "Why aren't you in your dress yet?" she asked, noticing her friend's attire.

Hermione wore shorts and a simple tank-top. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she had not put on make-up yet today. "You're supposed to be ready first," she said. "It's acceptable if a guest isn't dressed fully to the T, but if the bride isn't, then that's a problem. Don't worry, I'll be ready."

Ginny's dress was rather extravagant and full, with a bejeweled strapless top and a flowy bottom. It was covered in a layer of tulle that shimmered. The top was sweetheart and made her breasts pop a little. Around her waist was a faded baby pink side bow. Her shoes were small heels with a bow on the top. She had a small headband made of tiny diamond snowflakes for a winter theme. Her veil was short and teased. She wore single diamond earrings and a double layer diamond necklace. Hermione handed her the bouquet which was made up of a dozen white roses.

"You look breathtaking," Hermione said, taking a few steps back to take in the whole appearance of her friend. Ginny blushed as red as her hair and looked in the mirror.

"You think?" she asked. Hermione nodded and began to get teary-eyed. Her two friends, whom she had known for over a decade, were getting married today. It was hard not to get even a little emotional.

A few minutes later, Hermione was getting her own make-up finished when Lacey barged into the room. "Mind if I join the party?" she asked seriously. The two girls laughed but awed when they saw her appearance. Lacey wore a short dark purple dress that was curved under at the bottom. It had long sleeves that went down to about her elbow and she had a silver clutch-bag. Her hair was straightened all the way, making it to about her middle-back. She wore high purple heels that had straps around her ankles.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Lacey. "You're here!" she exclaimed. "Lacey you look so pretty!" she said and Hermione gave a soundless agreement.

"I was going to say the same thing about you," she said, looking at Ginny in her wedding dress. The bride turned 360 degrees and Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing, returning back to her make-up application.

She curled her hair with a straightener, and it actually didn't look too bad. It made nice, big, rolling curls that reminded her of women in films back in the early 20th century. She opted for a small pearl bracelet and no earrings; you couldn't see her ears anyway. Despite her lack of dressing up and making herself look attractive during Hogwarts, Hermione really did like looking nice. She had become fond of it in American when she had to pat down heavy loads of make-up for performances.

Leaving her two friends in Ginny's room, Hermione travelled to the bathroom to change into her dress. She had bought it a long time ago when she had a date. She had been stood up, but she loved the dress so much, she didn't want it to go to waste.

It was a brilliant red. It was silky fabric that hugged her curves nicely and accentuated her breasts and especially her bum. The top came us as an A-top that wrapped around her neck. She had a black clutch-bag and and black heels that, gratefully, weren't as high as Lacey's. Looking at herself in the mirror, Hermione actually felt sexy.

She bit her lip and mentally reminded herself to put on bright red lipstick to match her dress. She returned to Ginny's room to see her and Lacey going through Ginny's honeymoon lingerie. They didn't seem to notice Hermione had walked in. The brunette took this as a time to put on the lipstick. From the mirror's reflection, she saw the pair's faces. They looked at Hermione with jaws dropped.

"What?" she asked, turning to face them with a giant smirk.

Lacey and Ginny jumped up and attacked Hermione with hugs. "You look so pretty!" "Where did you get that dress?" and "I'm so jealous" were just a few of the things that came out of their mouths. In reality, Hermione didn't look prettier than Ginny or Lacey, but the fact that she hardly ever dressed up made her seem a thousand times more beautiful.

"Stop it," Hermione laughed, moving away from her friends. "This isn't about me, this day is about Ginny." She checked the time with her wand and smiled. "And I do believe the bride is needed down the aisle."

"Knock knock," came a voice from outside. "Is everyone decent?"

Ginny laughed and grabbed her bouquet. "Yes, dad, come on in," she said, opening the door. Arthur Weasley stepped through, wearing a pair of dress robes.

"There's my little girl," he smiled and wrapped Ginny in a hug. She squeezed her dad back, and Arthur gave a small cough.

Ginny stepped back. "Oh, sorry daddy," she said sheepishly. Arthur just waved it off and sat down on the bed.

"You look beautiful, Ginny," he said. The youngest Weasley blushed from her father's compliment. "Is this really happening? Am I really giving away my little Gin?" He looked over to Hermione and Lacey. "I never thought I'd ever get to give anyone away at a wedding by the time the twins were born. I actually considered dressing Ron in girl clothes to try and get him to go the other way just so I could walk someone down the aisle," he laughed. "But then my Ginevra was born," he smiled.

Ginny grabbed her father's arm. "And now you get to walk me down the aisle," she said, grinning wildly. Hermione could tell she was excited for the wedding to happen and be over with to start her life with Harry.

"Alright, alright," Arthur laughed, standing up. "Just let me get these old bones working again." Ginny smiled and hooked her arm with her father's. Hermione and Lacey hurried ahead of them to Apparate to the wedding.

They made it in less than ten seconds, and almost sprinted to their seats. Ginny was kind and had two seats reserved for them. Most everyone that was invited was friends of both Ginny _and_ Harry, so there was no definite bride or groom side. But if there was, they would be seated on the bride side.

Teddy and Victoire walked down the aisle together. On accident, Victoire threw some light pink flower petals on Teddy. The metamorphmagus boy – whose hair was currently pink to match the arrangements – brushed the matching flowers pieces out of his spiked hair.

"Just wait until they get married," Lacey joked and Hermione gave a small laugh in response. She gave a small wave to the young Weasley as she passed and a curt nod to the young eight year old Lupin.

Soon the inevitable "Wedding March" played and the congregation stood to recognise the bride. Ginny looked even more ravishing in the bridal glow. Arthur's eyes were watering as he lead his daughter down the aisle-way. The floating lanterns hovered a few feet above their heads in a majestic army of glowing lights.

Harry appeared at the front of the aisle. A Ministry worker stood next to him. He held a chart-book with the marriage license in it, waiting to be signed at the correct time. He cleared his throat as Ginny Weasley, for the last time, reached the end of a walkway with her father as a Weasley. "And who gives this young woman to this man?" he motioned towards Harry.

Arthur zoned out for a moment before flashing back to reality. "I do," he said with a squeak. He kissed Ginny twice on each cheek before letting her go to the gazebo with Harry. He sat down next to his wife of an abundance of years and took her hand gently.

The Ministry worker didn't look happy; it _was_ 11:30 at night. Harry cupped Ginny's hands, whispering something or other to her. She blushed, and Hermione assumed that he had complimented her, and called her beautiful or something.

"We are gathered here today to wed two people into one. Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley and Mr. Harry James Potter," said the Ministry worker. He proceeded to talk about love in a one-toned voice. Most of the guests weren't even paying attention to him. Harry was busy brushing away a few tears from his beloved's eyes. "Now, Mr. Harry James Potter, do you take Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley as your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health, in good times and in bad, in loss and in gain, through thick and thin, with a devoted heart full of love as long as you both shall live?"

Harry practically glowed with happiness and love. "I do," he whispered only loud enough for Ginny to hear. The Ministry worker harrumphed and turned the Ginny.

"And do you, Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley take Mr. Harry James Potter as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, in loss and in gain, through thick and thin, with a devoted heart full as long as long as you both shall live?" the Ministry worker asked. Nearing the end, his speech had gotten rather sloppy and mumbled.

Ginny didn't even hesitate. "I do," she said, smiling proudly. Hermione felt her heart break. Harry and Ginny looked so happy together.

Harry took Ginny's ring in his hand and slipped it on, seeming rather nervous. He cleared his throat but the words couldn't come. Instead, he removed his wand from his sleeve. "Expecto Patronum," he muttered. A silvery-blue stag erupted from his wand, forming in between the pair. It opened its mouth, and Harry's voice echoed around from under the tent. "Ginny, when I think about you, so many words come to mind. Fun, amazing, beautiful, perfect, mine. But there's only one to truly describe you, Ginevra Weasley, and that is Ginny. You are Ginny. And Ginny means the person I am in love with. The one I want to spend every day with for the rest of my life, and if there are second lives and third, I want to find you again and marry you all over again. I didn't write this speech down, this is just what I think about you on a normal day. If I really thought about it, Ginny, I could right one-hundred novels about why I love you so, and I can't wait for you to become Ginny Potter." At that, the stag disappeared into smoke.

There was not a dry eye. Ginny had big tears rolling down her face. Hermione could understand why. She had never heard or seen anything romantic in all her life. The fact that Harry could not form the words to his mouth and used his Patronus to speak for him instead was breathtakingly beautiful and creative.

Ginny laughed and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her dress pocket. "I don't know how I'm going to beat that," she said with a small giggle. She wiped another tear away and tried to read through welled up tears. Her hands were shaking as she tried to hold the paper steady. Harry smiled and took her shaking hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "But I'll certainly try." Ginny cleared her throat and looked up, grinning widely at her soon-to-be husband.

"Harry," she started, "you are my everything. Ever since I first met you, I had an immense crush on you, and I'm sure you knew it," she laughed. "I thought I had no chance with _the _Harry Potter! I was just the awkward younger sister to your best friend. I thought you'd only see me as a sister type, but I am so grateful that you didn't. Every minute I spend with you becomes the best minute of my life. Every time I kiss you gets better and better. Every day I spend talking and living with you, I learn things I never knew, or would've guessed about you. I guess that's what makes our love so special. Is that not matter how much we uncover about each other, there's always more to know. And that is why, Mr. Harry Potter, you've found a Mrs. Potter," Ginny smiled, placing Harry's ring on his own finger.

The Ministry worker, who was the only one who wasn't crying, signalled the pair to come and sign their license. As they did, Celestina Warbeck began to sing. Hermione could see Mrs. Weasley swaying to the music.

Harry and Ginny, now officially married on paper, came back to the front of the gazebo to seal their marriage. Without even being told to (or they might have, Hermione couldn't remember) Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley became Mr. & Mrs. Potter just as the clock ticked to midnight as they kissed. Harry gave his new wife another kiss with a dip and everyone began to clap.

"What do you think they're doing?" Lacey asked Hermione as they sipped their cocktails and ate a few pasties. Ginny and Harry had yet to return from their ride in a magical carriage, and a few people were getting angsty for the reception to begin. (A few people being every one of Lacey's emotions).

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her best friend. "I know you're not this innocent, Lacey," she said with a loud laugh. Even the smallest amount of alcohol got Hermione a bit silly. "You and I both know why they're late. No need to go into detail," she whispered, taking another sip of her cocktail.

The American girl gave a shrug. "We could be wrong. They could be surprising us by arriving in a grand air balloon, with falling money to shower the guests. Then giants dollops of ice cream cake would appear in bathtubs that we'd be able to bathe in. Then they'd parachute down into a giant pool of wedding presents and invite us all to help them open them!"

The two girls exchanged looks towards each other. Hermione gave a small chuckle and said, "They're having sex."

"They're totally having sex," Lacey agreed. They laughed and suddenly the door opened. "Speak of the devils," she whispered.

Harry and Ginny looked rather happy. Why wouldn't they be? After being introduced as man and wife, the pair hurried over to Hermione and Lacey. "C'mon girls, go get your other halves, we're doing pictures in the foyer."

Lacey, who had completely forgotten about her cousin, Daniel, went to go find where he went. While Hermione, almost hesitantly, went to find Ron. He had a small glass of water in his hand which he sipped with a frowned face.

"Ron," Hermione said, looking into the brown eyes of her ex-boyfriend. "Your sister wants us to go take pictures in the foyer," she repeated the directions. Ron sighed and let Hermione hook her arm with his.

Just as they turned to go into the foyer, Hermione spotted Lacey looking back at her with wide eyes. The blonde's eyes drifted towards the the stairs and Hermione followed with her own. As Ron pulled her away towards the corridor to the foyer, she caught a glimpse of it. To her surprise and amazement, she saw Pansy Parkinson whispering something into the ear of Draco Malfoy.

It took actual physical resistance for Hermione to keep her jaw clenched as Ron led her away. Lacey trailed behind them with Daniel, who had dark black hair and blue eyes. Normally, he'd be exactly Hermione's type, but she wasn't attracted to Daniel. He held Lacey close to him, acting protective towards his girl cousin.

Lacey walked up next to Hermione. "Did you see?" she whispered, trying to keep it on the down-low.

Hermione nodded. "I can't believe it...What's he doing here?" she asked. "He couldn't have been invited; Harry wouldn't have approved of it."

Turning corners as the two pairs strolled, Lacey shrugged. "He looked as if he was Pansy's date," she reasoned. Ginny apparently told her about the deal with Pansy. "Oh Merlin, I wonder if he knows you're here."

Hermione whispered even softer as she noticed Ron's eyes dart from her back to the front. "It doesn't matter, there's nothing going on between us," she insisted. They hurried along to the foyer, and Hermione tried to keep her composure. She was rather curious. Did Pansy really invite him? She decided to brush it off. Maybe it wasn't him. It could have been someone who just looked like Draco.

Nope. It was Draco. Hermione could see from the foyer. He and Pansy had sped through the area towards somewhere else. Hermione's stomach tightened as she thought about it. This _was_ Pansy's house and she did sleep in a bed...

"Hermione! Strangle the bouquet, will you?" Lacey exclaimed, pointing to her friend's clenched hands. The former Gryffindor's hands were turning white from gripping the faux flower arrangement.

"Oh, sorry," she apologised, shaking her hands to get the blood flowing again. There was something, something strange going on in her body. She posed for pictures, smiling, but on the inside, she was panicking, freaking out, nervous.

Once photos were over, she hurried to the bar, needing something to drink. Lacey followed her while Ginny and Harry went off to eat. Hermione couldn't understand how they could eat so early in the morning, but they might say the same about her drinking.

"You're overreacting," Lacey explained as they sat at the bar. Ron and Daniel had gone somewhere else, probably trying to smuggle alcohol. "Draco and Pansy, they were friends, weren't they? Maybe she asked him to come as a friend. You never know, okay? And why is this such a big deal, you told me that there's nothing going on between you," Lacey said, ordering a drink. "Wait – or is there?"

Hermione's mind flashed to the kiss that Draco and she shared. Did that mean something to him? It sort of meant something to her. Apparently, it meant more than she knew. Seeing Draco with Pansy wasn't something she was prepared for. Hermione always thought of different scenarios of things could go wrong around the time of the war. She got into the habit of doing it, and during any type of event, she had multiple scenarios playing in her head. Pansy arriving to the wedding with Draco was not one of them. It caught her off-guard, and made her nervous.

"There's nothing," she answered after a short pause. "Nothing at all. It just strange, I guess. Seeing Draco here." Hermione sighed, and rapped her fingers on the bar. "Another cocktail please," she told the bartender.

"Maybe you should stop drinking, you'll feel better," Lacey said, putting a hand on Hermione's.

The brunette took her hand back and placed it on her glass. "No, I'm celebrating New Year's and no one is going to stop me," she said, taking a long sip of her drink. "Not even you, Lacey." Hermione scoffed and turned her back.

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Come talk to me when you want to apologise," she said rather meanly. She jumped off a stool and left in a fluster.

After a few more drinks, Hermione was feeling rather intoxicated. She hadn't drank this much in a while. The last time she had gotten this drunk was when she broke up with Ron.

From across the room, she saw Ron talking with Daniel. They both had waters, and seemed like they were having a great time. She saw Lacey join them, drinking her own non-alcoholic beverage. Lacey and Daniel laughed, telling Ron some story perhaps. Hermione sighed and drank her last drink. She stood up and thankfully was able to walk in a straight line to Lacey.

"Hey, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just haven't been feeling myself lately...I'm taking your advice, I already had my last drink."

Lacey smiled and hugged Hermione tightly. "It's okay, girl, I understand. Just try not to make stupid decisions tonight, okay?"

The two girls laughed. "Trust me," Hermione said. "I won't be."

Draco and Pansy sat in their seats in the back of the room. "Of course," she said with a scoff. "The Weaslette gives us the furthest seats," she whined.

Shaking his head, Draco looked at his friend. "Why did you even invite me then?" he asked. "I'm not having fun either."

With a groan, Pansy rolled her eyes. "I already told you. I didn't want to come alone. It was either you or Zabini and I remembered he was going to be out of town. Nott disappeared a long time ago, I'm not a lesbian, so I wasn't going to invite Millicent, and Goyle is _still _upset over Crabbe's death. I didn't want a whiny baby on my arm all night."

Draco sighed, "Maybe it'd be better if you were a lesbian," he muttered. Pansy shot him a look. "If you're going to complain and be miserable about being here, why not leave, and retire to your room? This _is _your house after all."

"And miss free food? Yes, that's a great idea to be locked in my room," she said sarcastically. "Merlin, Draco, your wife really rubbed off on you. Are you sure she was a real Slytherin? She always seemed to be a Hufflepuff to me. And don't talk to me like a child, I'm a grown adult," Pansy said with a horribly rude tone.

Draco rolled his eyes. He thought he would have a child free evening but it seemed like Pansy was more immature than Haley. He stood up and fixed his tie. "I'm getting a drink," he announced.

"Make sure to get five. I've had three already and I don't even feel a buzz," Pansy suggested as Draco left. He decided not to listen to her and got two drinks instead. He downed them without returning, leaving Pansy and her annoying personality to herself.

Majority of the guests had already left, tired since it was so late at night. Draco was not one of them. He sat back with Pansy as they ate roast beef and red velvet cake. The night seemed to be coming to an end, but then came the speeches.

Hermione stood at the front of the room. In Draco's eyes, she looked absolutely pretty. _But it's her dress and the way she looks. Not her, _Draco tried to convince himself. But he couldn't help it. Hermione Granger was pretty and she attracted him. He knew in saying yes to the wedding invitation it meant seeing her. But that was before they had kissed, before these feelings existed. He thought they would just engage in some random conversation about Haley. However, there she stood, talking about her friends' love, but all Draco could hear was music.

The reception was planned to end after a bit of dancing. Draco hadn't planned to stay that long; he wanted to be on-guard in case Ruth Heffley called him. For the night, he had gotten a Muggle phone so in case of an emergency, he could be ringed. He still didn't like the idea of the device, however. Owling or Flooing seemed much easier. But if something happened to Haley, he wanted to know.

At two in the morning, he still hadn't gotten a call. Maybe Hermione was right, and Haley was growing out of her nightmares. He just couldn't understand how someone could grow out of what she went through.

Draco sighed, making his way over to the bar again. His past still haunted him. Pansy didn't realise how much it had hurt him when she mentioned his wife. Although their marriage wasn't out of love, he got to know her very well. When she died, a part of him died with her. He didn't know what love felt like, he never knew if he loved her.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, as she saw him come to the bar. Guilty, she had sneaked away from Lacey for a second "last drink." She saw Draco approach, and sucked it up, deciding to be civil with him, not awkward.

"Granger," he said with a curt nod. "Pansy invited me. This is her home," he explained, circling the area with his finger.

Hermione played stupid and nodded. "It's rather extravagant for a home. She must be rather lonely," she said, looking at the ceiling. It was tall, and multiple chandeliers hung different places. "Where's Haley?" she asked, looking back to Draco.

He sat on the stool and twirled with his wedding band. "She's at a friend's house for the night. Actually, she's at the one girl's house from her class."

"Evangeline?" Hermione asked curiously. Draco gave a nod. She grinned wider. "They're very good friends. They're both rather shy but together they're a rowdy bunch," she said with a laugh. "Haley is rather extraordinary. I really love her," she smiled. "You're lucky to have such a great daughter."

Draco shrugged. "She's really a blessing," he said. "She's helped me see the error of my ways, and see the world in a whole new perspective. I think if didn't have Haley, I wouldn't be this civil towards you," he said with a laugh. "I meant that in a joking matter," he cleared up.

Hermione nodded. "I understand," she said, reaching for her own drink. "Dancing is sort of the same way for me. I started dancing again years ago in America and I travelled that country. It got to see so many new things and I felt rather moved by the end of it all. I'd love to go back," she told him. "But I'd love to go other places, too."

"Where did you go in America?" he asked, swirling his drink around, not really sipping it any more. "I've always wanted to go, but I never got the chance."

The Gryffindor finished her drink before answering. "Well, I studied at Julliard, an art school, and a smaller company outside of New York City. I toured to Atlanta, Houston, Albuquerque, Los Angeles, Boise, Seattle, Indianapolis, Detroit and Myrtle Beach," she said with a laugh. "If I learned anything, it's that Detroit is a scary place."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "I only recognised two of those locations, but okay," he said with a laugh. "I guess if I went to America, I'd go somewhere warm. Like Florida," he said as an example. "You really love dancing don't you?" Hermione gave a short, embarrassed nod. "I could tell. You're good at making dances, too. The little, uh, show you put on was quite good. I really liked it. A lot, actually."

Hermione blushed deeply. "Thank you. Uh, I don't think you realise how much work goes in to putting that together, and the fact that you liked it means a lot."

The blonde smiled and took a sip of his drink. "Any time."

After a long pause, Hermione gave a small laugh. "Okay, I know this is really strange, but can I look at your hands?" she asked, biting her lip nervously.

Draco gave a small laugh and set down his tumbler. He held out his hands. "Okay..."

Hermione grabbed them eagerly. She gripped Draco's left thumb and put it next to his right forefinger. She pouted slightly. "Huh. Guess not," she whispered and sat back.

Malfoy almost burst into laughter. He took back his hands and rubbed his fingers. "What was that about Granger?" he asked curiously, placing the tumbler back in his left hand. He inspected his hands briefly; nothing looked awry about them.

"I heard something one day that to the tip of a man's thumb was the same as the distance to his forefinger tip. It is for Ron and Arthur and George, but it isn't for you...Strange," Hermione said with a thought.

Draco scrunched his eyebrows slightly. "Weren't you and that Weasle bloke in a relationship before?" he asked curiously.

Hermione looked up, quite startled. "Um, I mean, well, yes. It ended a long, long time ago...And we're just, just..._friends_ right now..." she stuttered, her eyes drifting around the room nervously.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pinch a nerve," Draco said, putting his hands up in defence. "It's obviously a sensitive subject."

Hermione shook her head furiously. "No, no it's okay. As I said, it happened a long time ago. I'm over it. Really, it's fine," she smiled. "I'm sure the situation with your wife is much more upsetting."

Draco nodded. "It really is."

They sat together for a good hour, just talking about random things, quizzing each other on random trivia, and debating multiple things; whether egg salad was a real salad, which was more painful, being kicked in the crotch or giving birth, and which came first, the phoenix or the flame. Eventually, they stopped asking for more drinks and just spent time laughing and enjoying each other's presence.

Draco wrung his thumbs nervously. "Listen, Hermione. This has been fun and all, but I must go. I'll...see you Monday?" he asked, standing up to leave. He didn't want to, of course, but it almost half past three in the morning.

Hermione looked flustered at his sudden departure. "Oh, uh, yes," she answered. "Do you know where the Floo is? I can't imagine Apparating this late at night, especially after all the, well, drinks," she said, clanging the tumbler on the counter.

Draco shook his head. "No I don't. Care to show me?" he asked, holding out his hand politely towards her. Hermione took it hesitantly. But as Draco's hand gently wrapped around hers, she knew it felt right.

"Sure. This way," she said, going through a door. She led him down a narrow corridor which ended with a Floo. "It's rather inconvenient, don't you think? A Floo all the way down here-" Hermione couldn't finish her sentence.

Draco placed his free hand on her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn't a short kiss like last time, this kiss was long and full of passion. He desperately pressed his palms into her cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

Hermione gently bit down on Draco's bottom lip as his hands traced her ears and neck, just barely grazing her skin. It left goose-bumps in its trail. He grasped her hips, thrusting them towards his body. She moaned slightly as his tongue slicked its path along her lower lip. She let it entered her mouth for a brief moment before Draco shot it back, smiling from his little tease. His hands gripped her bum before he Apparated them away to his house.

The pair landed just outside of Draco's house. It was shivering cold outside, causing the tips of Hermione's nipples to harden slightly. The pair pushed through the door, still attached to each other. Draco pushed off jacket as soon as they crossed the threshold. His lips left Hermione's for a brief second before attacking her with his lips once more. This time he went for her neck, sucking slightly right beneath her ear. He moved to her earlobe, and bit on it for a moment. Hermione felt her knees go weak from the stimulations.

Draco grinned wickedly as he saw Hermione's eyes roll back from pleasure. He moved to the collar of her dress and undid the clasp. It fell slightly, barely covering her now-revealed breasts. Hermione shivered as she became colder. She curled her toes slightly as Draco gripped her breast in his hand. They were too far already. They couldn't turn back now. Hermione reached her hands around his neck, kissing him deeper. She undid his bow-tie and threw it to the other side of the kitchen. She felt herself becoming heated in her womanhood as Draco moved to grab her bottom.

In the passionate embrace, Draco lifted Hermione off her feet and let her wrap her legs around his waist. With her feet, she pulled off her heels. He slowly inched his hands up her waist and slid her dress up her torso. He tugged a finger at her panties and began to pull them down. "Granger, Granger," he mumbled against her lips as he tossed her number. "Rather naughty for you to be wearing such small pants," he said, referring to her lacy thong he just tossed.

"It's a thin dress," Hermione said as she went to nibble at Draco's jawline. The Slytherin just gave a small laugh as he slowly let two fingers inside her. She stiffened at his touch slightly.

"You've done this before, right?" he asked, pulling his hands in and out slowly. Hermione nodded and kissed him lightly, keeping her eyes sewed shut.

"Just not in a long time," she admitted through bated breath as Draco continued to probe her private area.

He shook his head and kissed her back rather sweetly. "Me either," Draco said against her lips. He spun them so Hermione was against a strong wall before pushing his fingers further into her. Hermione moaned, pushing her fingernails into Draco's back. She climaxed against his hand, sighing her relief onto his shoulder.

Quickly, Hermione jumped from Draco's arms and kept their lips glued as she unbuttoned his shirt. He hurried them to his bedroom. "Is...is this really a good idea?" she asked, looking into his eyes for a moment. She had to look up though; Draco was rather tall compared to Hermione.

The former Death Eater shook his head. "No. But fuck good ideas. Because I want to do this," he said, pulling her closer by the waist before gently pushing Hermione onto the bed. He crawled on top of her, teasing her with his slow removal of her dress.

"Unnh...Draco!" Hermione groaned, pulling him closer to her. She kissed him again, not even counting the number of times their lips met. She kicked off the rest of dress. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she quickly pulled down his fancy Tuxedo trousers.

Eagerly, Malfoy positioned himself perfectly, and entered Hermione Granger. She arched her back in immense pleasure as he began to kiss her neck. He gave her a small love bite, then proceeded to kiss her chest. He gave her breasts a great amount of attention before meeting her lips again.

Happily, Draco let Hermione climax before he gently collapsed onto her from his own release. He lasted longer than he expected, a rallying four minutes. He pulled Hermione close to his chest, letting himself finger her every once and a while.

"And you don't regret this?" Hermione asked Draco, looking up at him. He answered with a soft kiss, and let the brunette fall asleep in his arms.

**A/N: Gosh, sorry it took so long to get this finished, this will never happen again, I promise! I hope the chapter makes up for its tardiness!**

**I have a good excuse, I had exams last week, I had to take seven in one day and then I had a dance convention all last weekend. Also, I've been struggling with some random sickness that I don't know.**

**Sorry if the whole sex-scene wasn't good or didn't meet your expectations. It's the very first full sex scene I've written and I actually thought it turned out half-way decent.**

**Again, I apologise for the wait. My schedule is clearing out, so I'll definitely update soon.**

**Please Review and tell me what you thought of this chapter and if you loved it or not! I really hope you loved it! How will I know? Review! Also, if you haven't yet, Favourite and Follow me or this story if you deem it worthy! I love you all and I can't tell you how much you all mean to me! Hugs and kisses!**

**P.S. Newest longest chapter!**

**-Eagles **


	19. It's Time To Begin

**A/N: Okay! Okay! Here it is, the next chapter! Hope you all love it as much as I do!**

**Chapter title comes from the song, "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons**

The warm, dense air of an island, with water crawling against the sand that bounds between heated feet could not compare. Neither could the pleasure of an old, battered, yet full of love, blanket that had been passed down generation through generation so much, the century-old stitching no longer exists. Or the fluffy, sneeze-inducing fur of an ageing cat. No, the feeling of Draco Malfoy's strong, comforting, tepid arms around Hermione Granger's petite frame was something indescribable.

There was something...incorrigibly soothing about his presence that Hermione could not put her finger on. It was almost as if when he touched her, all her fears were erased. She didn't understand how Haley couldn't calm down when Draco held her small body. It her, his arms were like the best sleeping medicine in the world. She could sleep with him pressed against her body for a hundred years, and still yearn for more.

Hermione didn't dare open her eyes. Because when she opened her eyes, everything that had happened, all of this, would become reality, not a beautiful dream, but reality.

And reality was a frightening thing.

Because last night felt so wonderful, but so wrong at the same time. Not the sex, the kissing, the sleeping, but the mindlessness. Hermione hadn't been thinking. Was it the alcohol? Probably. But then, if it was such a bad decision, how come when Malfoy caressed her, it felt so right? Or, when he had peppered her body with kisses that raised her skin? Even when they were sleeping, and he had gently grazed one part of her arm fifty times with his thumb?

It was evident that Draco Malfoy had changed his views in Muggle-borns, considering his actions towards Hermione lately, but was it enough to sleep with her? Did he even mean to? Was this all a hoax to tease Hermione? And how _exactly _did Draco get over blood status?

All these questions had been haunting Hermione in her sleep. She desperately wanted answers to all of the questions she threw at him, but knew it was almost, if not totally, impossible. Draco was too closed off. He had built up a wall, Hermione knew, back in sixth year. It was a cracked wall, as if someone, a long time ago, had tried to push it down but failed before a brick could fly loose.

There was some part of her, one that hadn't been active in a while, that wanted to be the person to tear that wall down.

A sudden chill finally popped open Hermione's hazel eyes. Her natural heater had gone out. She whipped her head around and saw that the space to the left of her was empty. However, it still left the dent of the blonde-headed man who earlier occupied it. Hermione's fingertips hardly touched the surface, but she could still feel his warmth. He'd just left.

She brought her fingers to her nose. The sheets still smelled like him; apricots and mint. It must've been his shampoo, but Hermione categorised apricots and mint as Draco's official scent.

She bent her head forward to the bed and inhaled the sweet aroma that evaporated from the sheets. After a while, the smell gave her a slight headache and she sat back up.

Hermione pulled her knees up to her bare chest, locking herself in a box. She observed the room around her; she hadn't any time last night to really look at Draco's bedroom. She was rather busy doing...other things.

The walls were rather bland besides the occasional picture or two. The bed had green sheets and a green duvet (obviously), and other than a closet door and a bathroom door, there was a small dresser with three drawers and more pictures on top. Hermione grabbed a green sheet and pulled it off the bed. She wrapped it around her person like a toga. Although she was alone, Hermione still found herself to be self-conscious. What if Draco walked back in? Well, he had seen her naked before, but even so, Hermione wasn't taking any chances. Also, walking around naked in Draco Malfoy's house was rather strange for her liking.

The first thing she looked at was the dresser. She pulled open the bottom drawer. It only contained a few pairs of trousers. The second drawer held a few nice shirts and t-shirts. The top drawer contained ties and, oh! Draco's pants. Hermione stifled a laugh when she spotted a Slytherin green pair with shiny, silver snakes on them.

Hermione finally let her eyes rest on a frame with an old photo in it. It was of Draco when he was young, maybe eight, and he was frowning to the camera. Once in a while he'd fix his stringy hair that hung by his eyes; he must've not gelled it until Hogwarts. The photo's colours had a slight fade to it, so much that Hermione would call it sepia.

The photo right next to it, in a golden frame, had Draco with a young, pudgy Haley. He was smiling and waving his baby daughter's hand to the camera. Every once in a while, he'd look back at the empty space in the picture and laugh.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows but turned to a third picture. This one was Draco holding a newborn Haley. He glanced down at the small bundle in his arms and then turned his head to the right and kissed the air.

Tightening the sheet around her body, Hermione moved onto the wall pictures; they were a bit larger than those on the dresser. Again, there were three photographs in frames. The one closest to the dresser held a photo of Haley, a head shot, and she was laughing, her wavy hair bouncing. She didn't look much younger than she did now.

The second photo was a landscape one, with many people dressed nicely in it. It took Hermione a minute to realise it was a wedding photo. It was the bridal party. Three bridesmaids, three grooms-men and a groom, Draco. He played with his hair that was sticking up and also covering his line of vision. He laughed and smiled and looked genuinely happy. There was an obvious space beside him, but it didn't go unnoticed. He gave small grins over to the spot, unperturbed by the absence.

The last photo was two hands laced together. Hermione couldn't tell where the background was, but the hands swung often, like the holders were walking. After a few seconds of studying the picture, one of the hands slowly faded away into nothing.

For some reason she gasped. Hermione put a hand up to her lips, watching intently, as if believing the hand would return. But it didn't. The hand on the right, the remaining one, curled, as if wilting. But then a smaller hand slipped into the grasp of the larger one. On its arm had many almond shaped purple splotches. After a few seconds, however, they faded. Then the whole thing would repeat again.

Hermione didn't understand how Draco could have these in his bedroom and not feel sick to his stomach. She just saw each one move in ghostly and sickening ways and she wanted to rip each frame off the wall, and destroy them forever. They caused her stomach to clench like she was going to be ill, and she wanted it to stop. The stories told in the photos were breathtakingly horrible. She noticed a nail, unoccupied, and took a step back, unable to bear the thoughts any more.

Draco's wife...

Hermione instantly felt guilty for the night's events. She had promised Lacey that she wouldn't do anything stupid, and there she went, and slept with Draco Malfoy. But, it was just a silly drunk mistake. Yes, a drunk mistake.

But something didn't feel right. As Hermione sat on Draco's bed, she did not feel a raging headache coming on, there was no sign of vomit or memory loss, and her body didn't feel exhausted. She had to go to the toilet though, so she got up, did, and when she returned, continued to ponder.

_Might as well get dressed, _she thought to herself. That is, what would she wear? Definitely not her dress, that was a sure sign of a one-night stand. She vaguely remembered Draco tossing her pants across a room, so she trekked out of the bedroom into the sitting room. She spotted her lacy, cotton white thong sitting on the settee she recalled Draco knocking over once before. She blushed and picked it up. She went to find her bra, but remembered she hadn't wore one. She silently cursed herself for wearing such a risqué dress.

Hermione hurried back into Draco's bedroom. She passed the still-moving pictures as she searched for an alternative outfit. Haley's clothes would be too small, and most of Draco's too masculine.

Taking a risk, Hermione pulled open Draco's closet. Standing on her tip-toes, she attempted to spot anything wearable. Finally she found a grey jumper that looked like it might have shrunk, and a pair of track suit trousers that look like they hadn't been touched in years. She found her wand beneath the bed and gave it a quick _Scourgify_ to make it look nice.

Fully dressed, Hermione finally decided to explore the house in search of Draco. She didn't have to look long. When she entered the kitchen, her keen eyes saw a note on the counter. It was written in Draco's lazy handwriting. _Had to pick up Haley from friend's house. Feel free to grab something to eat. Be back soon. -M _

_ Back._ He'd be _back_, like he expected to see Hermione again. Her stomach tightened as she reread the message over and over again. Hermione turned away from the note finally. She moved towards the pantry. She picked out some fibre cereal and sat down at the dining table. It tasted like rocks and Hermione could hardly swallow a spoonful. They weren't out of date or stale, but she just could not eat.

Going back to the note, Hermione decided to give it a flip, see if there was any more to see. In the corner said, _29 West Street, Epsom, England. _That was a Muggle area. Evangeline was a Muggle.

Hermione bit her lip and contemplated for a second. Draco _did _say he was going to return. But how long ago had he wrote that note? The ink was dry and it had been at least 10 minutes since she woke up. If Draco Apparated, he should be back soon. After some thought, Hermione decided to wait five minutes. If the father and daughter duo didn't return by then, she'd go.

Three minutes later, Hermione Apparated.

She had been to Epsom before, so she Apparated around an abandoned building she remembered seeing before. Luckily, by the street signs, she saw it was West Street. Hermione bit her lip as she walked nearby multiple identical houses. Besides the numbers, that is, the houses could have been the same one repeated over and over.

23, 25, 27, 29. There is was. It didn't look any different than the other houses, but Hermione knew it contained the beginning of a confrontation.

Draco closed his eyes. Ruth Heffley had been talking his ear off for at least half an hour. If not more. Haley was fine with it though; Evangeline and her were still giggling and talking about whatever went through four year old girls' heads.

"And when I sat down," the woman said through laughs, "Ryan threw the frog onto my lap! At the time, I was furious and screaming, but looking back, it was quite a funny scene! I flailed my arms around like a madwoman and caused a huge ruckus in the restaurant! I have no idea how Ryan managed to sneak a frog in there, but it got Evangeline to laugh again ever since her dog, Mitsy, died."

Draco just nodded along, not really listening. He laughed with Ruth laughed, and often took glances at his wristwatch. 10:15. There was no doubt in his mind that Granger had woken up. He had charmed his alarm so only he could hear it when it went off at 9:30. It was no surprise he was still exhausted. He took a Pepper-Up Potion to wake his body and also help his hangover. He didn't really remember having a hangover, and he promised himself to put Pepper-Up Potion on a pedestal when he got home; that thing worked miracles.

"Now Draco," Ruth started, catching the distant man's attention. "I don't mean to be a prude, but I'm a curious person. You have a ring on your left finger; where's you wife?" she asked.

Draco knew Ruth didn't know anything and was simply curious, so biting his tongue in frustration was not necessary. "She passed away when Haley was two," he answered for her, no whimpering in his voice. "She started having the nightmares soon after that."

Ruth gave a sympathetic sigh. "Oh, I'm dearly sorry. I didn't know, hence why I asked. That's horrible. As I told you, Haley was a bit restless last night, nothing I couldn't handle. Gave her a dose of Melatonin and she was out like a light," Ruth explained, and snapped her fingers for illustration. "How did your wife die?" she asked.

Without hesitation, Draco answered: "Illness. A horrible bout of pneumonia." That was his cover answer whenever someone asked him. However, with wizards, he used a wizard sickness instead of pneumonia. In fact, he merely thought of that off the top of his head; he had pneumonia once back during his time at university, and it was the only deadly Muggle sickness he could think of. No one, sans his mother and a few choice people, knew the actual cause of her death.

"Oh my, that is tragic," Ruth said, touching her heart. "Must be very hard to think about. I couldn't imagine what would happen if...oh, if I lost my Ned! My heart would be eternally broken. You must feel that way, don't you, Draco?"

The widower gave a large gulp, swallowing the world. "Yes," he answered. There was a pause and he decided it was the perfect time to make an excuse to leave. "I hate to go, but Haley has an appointment to trim her hair, you must know how sacred those dates are," he lied. Ruth nodded.

"I'll just get Haley's bag; it's up in Evangeline's room," Ruth said, and left Draco to stand in the kitchen/entryway on his own.

"Haley!" Draco called. The young Malfoy didn't seem to hear him. He groaned and called her name again. "Hale-" His voice was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. "Granger?" he whispered in shock.

Ironically, Haley then ran in, gripping her hands onto Draco's trousers, just above his knee. "Miss Hermioe!" she exclaimed, getting closer on the name. Hermione waved her hello before refocussing on Draco.

Malfoy stepped forward, Haley still clinging to his leg. "What are you doing here?" he whispered. "Didn't you see the note? I was going to come back!"

"I did see it," Hermione whispered back. "But you hadn't return in a good amount of time, so I came to make sure you – and Haley – were okay," she explained.

There was a period of silence in which no one said anything. Finally, Draco looked down at Hermione's frame. "Are you wearing –"

He couldn't finish his sentence. Ruth had walked in with Haley's bag of clothes and other items. "I've got the bag – oh! And who is this?" she asked and stepped forward, extending a hand. "Ruth Heffley, Evangeline's mother. You are?"

Hermione shook her hand timidly, slightly taken aback by her welcoming demeanour. "I'm, uh," she stuttered, periodically forgetting her name.

Luckily, Draco was able to improvise. "She's the...hairdresser!" he exclaimed, and bent down to pick Haley up in his arms. She squirmed a bit but he had a good grip. "Yes, the hairdresser, Ms Ranger. What are you doing here, Ms Ranger, we were on our way," Draco said in a very loud, fake voice.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something. She was never good at acting, especially on the spot. She had to think for a moment, which lasted a century in her head and two seconds in real life. "Y-your appointment was fifteen minutes ago and you are never late, always punctual, and I was worried something happen to you. I sat in my salon, so nervous I couldn't eat!" Hermione said, explaining the basic morning she had with different words.

"Oh my," Ruth said, and handed Draco the bag. "Go, I'm so sorry. I've been talking way too much, I didn't mean to cause such an event!" she exclaimed.

Evangeline waved goodbye to Haley and the Malfoy girl reciprocated the farewell. Draco didn't say anything back, knowing if he did, it'd give Ruth a chance to say something else. With a hand on her back, he led Hermione out of the small house. As soon as the door was closed, they hurried to a wooded area.

"How did you find out where I was?" Draco asked in a hushed voice. He sped through the woods to a denser area, trying to find a good place to Apparate.

"The note you left me; it had an address of a Muggle area on the back and I took a wild guess," she explained as they trekked through piles of leaves and snow. "I couldn't eat knowing something might have happened to you...and Haley," Hermione added.

Draco felt a little twitch of a smile creep upon his face. Granger had been worried about him. It felt good knowing that the Gryffindor Princess actually worried about him. "I would've come back right away," he answered, turning around to face her. Haley, oblivious to the conversation, was resting her head on her father's shoulder.

Hermione nodded. "Now I know," she said with a small smile. "Well, goodbye Draco," she whispered.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a surprised voice. "I mean, aren't you coming back with me?" Draco coughed. "Me and Haley?"

Hermione looked up. She had been preparing to Apparate, but now she was so relaxed and unfocussed it wasn't possible. "D-do you want me to?" she asked, taking a small step back. The earth crunched beneath her feet. In a hurry, she had slid on a pair of boots she now realised were Draco's.

In the past, a question like this would've been difficult for Draco to answer. This time, however, there was no hesitation. "Yes," he started, "I would like to talk to you, if you wouldn't mind." He held out his arm, urging her to Disapparate with him.

In an answer, Hermione gripped Draco's arm, and they Disapparated into nothingness.

Draco whispered something to Haley as he set her down. Hermione couldn't decipher what was being said, but had a good idea when the small girl ran off to leave them alone. "Last night was a drunk mistake," he said bluntly as soon as Haley was out of earshot.

"Was it?" Hermione asked. "I certainly didn't hate it and I don't think you did either. It was...nice, and not bad," she said timidly.

"A drunk mistake," Draco repeated. "We were drunk, it was stupid, and our lives need to go on normally now. Last night will never be mentioned again. Ever. And you cannot tell anyone that happened."

Hermione felt a log in the back of her throat. Not that she was going to cry, but that she had no idea what to say to that. "You charmed your wife out of the photos in your room," she blurted out. She looked up with eyes that could see through skin. "Didn't you?"

"WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO LOOK AT THOSE PHOTOS?" Draco screamed, his face in absolute disgust and horror. "BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL DIDN'T!"

"Daddy!" called Haley from upstairs, her voice full of fear. Draco silently cursed himself for forgetting to put a silencing charm on her room and then did so.

"I don't need permission to look at something displayed out in the open!" she exclaimed. "They're on your wall and dresser; it's not like I snooped in your drawers or something!"

"Oh really?" Draco asked, his voice quieter. However, his body began to shake. "THEN WHY ARE YOU WEARING HER CLOTHES?" He yelled. "IF YOU WEREN'T SNOOPING AROUND, WHY ARE YOU WEARING MY WIFE'S CLOTHES?"

Hermione's face went white. She clenched her fists in anger, but her face was full of fear. "T-these are your wife's clothes?" she asked, looking down at her attire. Well, the jumper _did_ seem to have a feminine cut to it, and the track suit trousers fit her well, unlike men's clothes. Draco gave a soundless nod.

"Were," he corrected. "They _were_ her clothes, she _was_ in those pictures, she _lived_ with me, she _slept _in the bed you did last night, she _sang _in the shower, she _was_ a mother, she _used _to live, and she _died _too young," Draco said, and with every emphasised past tense verb, the anger in his voice grew.

Hermione felt a pang in her chest as Draco listed off things about his wife. She wanted to butt in and say it wasn't her fault and she was sorry, but she couldn't. He had to get these things out. It didn't matter if Hermione didn't know who the wife was, all she knew, was that Draco felt strongly about his wife.

Of course, only Draco and Hermione, after sleeping together, would fight.

"Draco," she whispered, but he didn't do anything; he didn't calm down, or stop shaking. "Draco, Draco please, please just stop, calm down," Hermione begged. She reached forward, and grabbed his arms. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms in an attempt to calm him.

Finally, Draco ceased his temper. His shoulders were still heaving with post-anger, though. "I-I-I," he stuttered, unable to form whatever he was trying to say. Hermione shushed him, placing a finger to her lips.

Hermione led Draco to sit down on the settee. She took her hands back, afraid if she touched him longer Draco would yell at her again. "Calm down, please, Draco. Please, I'll get you a cup of tea." Hermione said softly. She hurried back to the kitchen and started to make some tea. Draco had to calm down before they continued talking about the previous night's events.

She gave him the tea, green tea, before sitting down in a chair across from him. After a few minutes that felt like days, Draco looked up to meet Hermione's gaze. "That was very stupid of me, forget it even happened." Whether he was talking about the sex, or the blow up that just occurred was unknown.

Hermione just nodded. After another minute, she cleared her throat. "The thing that happened...it can't be ignored, Draco, it just can't."

"'The thing?'" Draco laughed. "You could just call it 'sex' you know? Or 'shag', even, if you wanted to use that term."

Draco laughed as Hermione blushed. "Okay, fine. We did it. We had sex. Are you happy?" she asked.

Draco smiled and took a sip of his tea. "Quite."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I did some thinking while you were gone about...sex. And I'm willing to admit that I liked it. I did," she blushed. "And I know that it was a stupid, drunk mistake. But hear me out. I want to bring back the idea of helping Haley with her nightmares. I care about her as much as you do and you don't have to pay me with money or gifts or anything. I want to help."

"But I told you, the way I'm raised, I have to pay you back –" Draco started, but Hermione interrupted him by holding up a finger.

"You and I both have some...sexual desire," Hermione started.

"I wouldn't call it that," butted in Draco. The Gryffindor didn't seem to care. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Some sexual desire," she repeated, "and so I was thinking that as in some sort of payment to me, we could, I don't know..." she trailed off.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get sex out of me?" he laughed. "Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?"

Hermione shook her head crazily. "No!" she exclaimed, absolutely appalled. "I just mean uh, that if either one of us felt the want...that, that we could have someone there to...help with our needs," she said, her face turning deep vermilion. She shook her head again and stood up. "Never mind," she mumbled. "It's a stupid idea and I didn't expect anything other than laughter. I'm surprised you didn't ask me to leave yet," she said.

Draco stood up, too. "It's not stupid," he said, only a bit louder than a whisper. "I just...wasn't expecting it," he explained.

Hermione shook her head for a third time, looking down. "It's okay, don't sweat it. I'm just going to leave and _Obliviate _myself so I can forget I said that," she laughed and walked past the settee.

Outstretching his hand, Draco grabbed Hermione's cheek and pulled her face to his. He gave her a gentle kiss which deepened. He placed a hand on her waist and her jumper pulled up a bit. As skin touched skin, reality set in, and the kiss ended.

"If this is going to work," Draco said, taking a deep breath, "we cannot talk about it, tell anyone, or mention what we do outside of when we do it."

"And you'll let me help Haley?" Hermione asked, not moving from Draco's grip against her waist. "You'll let me calm her nightmares?"

Draco nodded. "You really care about her don't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You care about my daughter and her health." Hermione gave a sly smile, a nod, and blushed even deeper. She untangled her body from against his and crossed her arms.

"Want me to give you back the jumper and bottoms?" she asked, looking down at her body. She still wore the dead woman's clothes, which was slightly creepy. She bit her lip and it was already swollen.

"No, don't rush," Draco smiled, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. "We have time."

**A/N: SO THE DRAMIONE CONTINUES! I have a show this weekend, so I won't update as often, but I will update. This chapter really starts the whole Dramione relationship, and there will be a lot of...progression from here. I kind of wrote the end of the chapter fast to finish it, as its late at night.**

**Hugs and kisses to all of you who love my story! Favourite, Follow and Review if you haven't yet! I miss my loyal Reviewers :( Where are you? **

**Review, (because it makes me feel good and tomorrow is Monday) and I will love you eternally! **

**Also, my birthday is coming up soon, (the 26th) so I may be writing a Birthday Scene! We'll just see! ;) **

**I love you all!**

**-Eagles**


	20. I Got A Secret and I Want to Tell

**A/N:Sorry for the wait! I was in a play and such and such and I'm sick, blah, blah, blah. Excuses. Whatever. This is a new chapter. I think its the longest yet. I tried to make it long to make up for the wait. The chapter title comes from, "Pressing Flowers" by The Civil Wars :) I love them!**

For five or six weeks, (the pair couldn't keep track) Draco and Hermione had been secretly sleeping with each other. It wasn't a daily thing, hardly. Due to Draco's Healer schedule and Hermione's preparation for the dance competition, they were lucky if it happened bi-weekly. Hermione now brought Haley back to her home after all dance classes were finished on Mondays. That meant a four year old girl was able to roam three floors of a dance studio for relatively three hours. Hermione had begged Lacey to keep a watchful eye, and now the American regretted ever saying yes.

Mondays were usually identical. Haley would have class and then trek the studio as Hermione taught numerous classes. After Haley's class, she taught Advanced Tap, then Jazz 3, for girls and boys around 8 or 9, and finally Ballet with the eldest students. However, they ended up having to go over time lately due to rehearsals. As Hermione directed the girls and boy and corrected them on how to do some sort of lift, she couldn't help looking at the corner of the room where Draco and her shared their first kiss of many. It made her blush so much once, Lizzie asked if she had a fever. Needless to say, it only made her blush further.

There was some sort of, (dare Hermione say it) hunger that came with Draco. The kind that couldn't be tamed with anyone else. The 25 year old had experienced many episodes of sex before, but there was something...different with Draco. He was creative and liked to change things up. With Ron, he was gentle and each touch was full of love. That was something Hermione had always loved about sleeping with Ron: at the time, you could feel their love. The gentle caressing was something she missed. Days were Draco heated things in bed were fun and all, and his animal-like behaviour was a turn-on, but Hermione longed for his hands to brush her body filled with emotion and not sex.

But, of course, she didn't mind the sex. In fact, it was a nice refresher from not getting any for a long time – almost a year! She was never like Lacey in the way that she had to have sex every three months to live (who was currently dying from her dry spell). After the deal with Ron, she had a few hookups in America and then a couple back home, but no solid relationships. Or well, continued sleeping partners.

There's no denying that Hermione was a curious girl growing up about everything. From spells and potions to histories and runes, she always wanted to know more. Even about sex. So when she was asked to go to bed with someone for the first time, she didn't say no. It wasn't because she was a horny teenager, but merely because she was curious. She had read about sex in multiple scientific books and journals and understood the main concept of it, but realised she knew nothing after the experience of it. Some things books just cannot explain.

Hermione stood over Haley's bed as she observed her sleeping. Her hand brushed the small tendrils of her hair every once in a while, trying to keep the young girl in a dreamless state. There had been a couple episodes a few weeks ago in which Haley had gone into horrible convulsions and had to be woken and rocked, but since then, things had been going along smoothly.

It was around this time, 3 in the morning, when Draco would return from work and if he wasn't too tired, which he usually wasn't, they would go into the bedroom.

Hermione heard the familiar pop of Apparition and braced herself for the near future. She puffed out her chest slightly and smoothed her bushy hair but didn't cease comforting Haley. The young girl's porcelain face looked unscathed right now, but two hours ago it resembled the face of a broken doll. Hermione smiled as she ran her hand down the slope of Haley's nose and traced her cheekbones and lines around her eyes and eyebrows.

It took two minutes of those repeated actions before she finally heard Draco clear his throat. She turned her head and saw him standing in the door-frame, watching the scene before him. His Healer robes were slightly torn at the shoulder and wrist, and they had some sort of stain on the sleeves. Draco's face looked crumbled, wrinkly and seemed to have aged 10 years in an hour. "Hi," he said with a cracked voice.

"Hi," Hermione whispered back. She couldn't help smiling at the sight of Draco. Strangely, his presence had comforted her lately. Maybe it was the familiarity of it, but knowing that she was no longer alone in the cottage made Hermione feel loads better.

Draco looked down at his feet before saying anything more. He shuffled them for a moment and studied the floor beneath him. It was wooden with small cracks or bumps here and there. He wanted to laugh at the fact that everyone could be compared to a floor, but looked up instead. "I-I can't tonight, Granger. I'm much too tired," he said in an apologetic voice. He didn't explain that the reason he was tired was because of Aaron who had a thought put into his head that Draco was trying to kill him and further threw a temper-tantrum. He had caused his IV to pop out of his skin and sprayed Draco for a good 20 seconds before he could stop the flow. Also, Aaron kicked Draco's legs numerous times as he mutely tried to escape the prison cell that was his hospital bed by moving like a worm. There was absolutely no reason to bring that up to Granger.

Even so, she was very surprised and a little concerned. Even on his worst days, Draco always put in a little something for them. But Hermione brushed it off, knowing from experience that it was best not to provoke Draco. "That's fine," she said, a bit too flatly than she wanted to.

"But if you could..." Draco trailed off for a brief moment before striking up the courage to go on. "I wouldn't mind having someone sit with me while I read. I can't go to bed, my head is too awake with thoughts. And I just thought since you like books-"

"Are you asking me out on a reading date?" Hermione asked curiously, raising her eyebrows. Draco began to stutter again and she smiled. "Because if you are, I accept," she whispered, turning back to Haley. "I think she's in a deep enough sleep," she thought aloud before standing quietly. For good measure, Hermione bent over and gave Haley a soft kiss on the head.

Draco outstretched his arm for Hermione to grab. She did, and he limply led her out of the room and down the steep stairs. "Do you have a book you're reading?" Draco whispered even though it was absolutely fruitless since they weren't anywhere near Haley. It was fun, though, whispering. It gave the person some sort of control and emotion to their voice. "Or do you need me to get you one?"

Hermione shook her head as she grabbed a Muggle literature book from the sitting room table. It said, _Persuasion_ by Jane Austen. "No," she smiled. "I grabbed this one from my place when Haley was in the bathroom. She was in there for nearly twenty minutes, so I thought I'd get some reading done at the same time," Hermione explained, unhooking her arm from Draco's. "What about you?"

The Malfoy heir mumbled something about wars and Purebloods before pulling out a book that was titled, _The Pure for Good: The Good Side of Purebloods During the First Wizarding War_ by: Fatima Purblurry. "My parents made me read it as a young boy and I thought I should read it again. It isn't that bad really. It explains what my family _should_ have done." He muttered the last part under his breath, evidentially trying to hide his anger.

Hermione didn't say anything; she merely bit her lip and took a seat on the settee. She imagined Draco would sit beside her but he didn't. Instead, he took a seat in an old, antique sitting chair on the other side of the room. She pretended that this didn't bother her as she lifted her Muggle book to read.

They sat in silence for a moment before Draco spoke up. "That was rude of me. What is your book about?" he asked, temporarily setting his own one aside.

Startled, Hermione blushed and looked down at her novel. "It's um," she thought for a moment on how to phrase the book she had read countless times. "About a girl, well, woman really, who is 27 and unmarried, believing to become an old maid one day. Her ex-fiancé is thrust into her life again and his family...and well, it's a love story, so you know." Hermione smiled as she talked brightly about the book. "It's one of my favourites of Jane Austen. This was her last book she finished before she died," she said, looking down at the novel. "I can't remember much more, so I thought I'd reread it."

Draco's eyebrows knit together. "Jane Austen?" he asked with a confused tone. "Who's that?"

Hermione nearly tossed the book at his head. "Who's Jane Austen?" she asked in a surprised tone. "Draco Malfoy! I would've thought better of you!"

He just gave a small shrug. "I grew up in a strict Pureblood household where even the slight indication of the mention of a Muggle was absolutely unheard of, remember?" he asked as stood and sat beside her. He attempted to peer over at the book.

Hermione held the book to her chest quickly. "Yes, I seem to recall that now," she smiled. "Jane Austen wrote this book and many others. She wrote _Pride and Prejudice_, _Sense and Sensibility_, and _Emma. _A couple more, too, I believe. She was a romantic novelist and considered to be one of the greatest female authors in the history of books." After a moment Hermione added, "to me, at least."

Without any hesitation or struggle, Draco grabbed the book from Hermione's small grasp. "That sounds interesting," he said in a genuine voice. He looked at the back and front. The front had a couple, presumingly, leaning in to kiss beneath an archway of roses. In the distance, an orange-red manor lay, with a vast, front garden. The couple stood before of a small cluster of various kaleidoscopic flowers. The man in the kissing couple wore some sort of uniform it looked like, and the woman wore a very 19th century dress. In the sea of blue skies and clouds, in small, cursive text, read, _It's never too late for true love. _"This is a horrible cover," he said blatantly.

Hermione snatched the book back. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I think its rather pretty and romantic," she smiled.

Draco gave a small laugh and raised his eyebrow. "It ruins the book for you! Obviously these characters kiss and end up together; what good is in reading it now?" he pointed out with a smug face.

Frustrated, Hermione set the book aside and turned to face Draco. "Well, I look at it this way. With all romantic books, you know the two main characters are going to end up together. Otherwise it wouldn't be romantic." She paused for a moment and bit her lip, trying to think of the best way to say what she meant. "The fact that two people end up together in the end isn't the reason why a story is so good or wanted to be read. It's the story, the path, with all its bumps and troubles along the way of how this couple came to be that really gives it its meaning."

Silence filled the air for a brief moment. The pair gave each other small looks before Draco nodded. In the past he would have made a snarky comments that all romantics were biased, but instead, he cleared his throat and said, "That makes sense."

This seemed to have pleased Hermione as she smiled, sat back and reopened her book to some page about halfway through. Draco watched her for a moment, debating on whether she was going to speak longer, before retiring to his own novel.

They must of sat in silence for an hour at least, with the only the comforting echoes of flipped pages and sudden breaths to keep company. With such opposite books, a small squeal could often be heard escape Hermione's lips, while Draco only let out a deep grunt of understanding when he read a fact.

It was unknown when their hands first touched, but neither shot their hand back. Just the fingertips touched at first, but as the time progressed, Draco wrapped his fingers around Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze. Out of the corner of the eye, he saw her smile and set the book on her thighs so she could flip the page.

Neither one said anything as they read in silence. For the rest of the early morning they finished their books while holding hands. The quiet of the daylight was perfect for their own little date on Valentine's Day.

By the time Hermione got home, she was beat from staying up 24 hours. She dropped onto her sofa as soon as she could and rubbed her red, puffy eyes. She tilted her head back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before she heard the Floo start up. She propped her head up to see Ginny standing in front of the dying green flames with her eyes identical to Hermione's. For a brief second, she wanted to groan from the unexpected visitor while she was so tired, but the tear-stains that carried along her cheeks were enough to make Hermione sober up.

"Hermione," Ginny cried, and a single tear fell down her face. She wiped it quickly, hoping to hide her heartbreak. "C-can we talk?" she asked, shaking from fear.

The older witch was taken aback and stood up for no reason. "Of course. You don't even need to ask," she said and hurried over to take Ginny's hands. She sat her on the sofa and engulfed her in a long hug before they parted. With a worried look, Hermione's eyes darted back and forth to scrutinise her best friend's weary face. "Ginny, what's wrong?" she asked, looking desperately at the ginger's face for some sort of clue.

For a brief moment, Ginny smiled. It was the sort of smile someone gave when they decided to give up. To give in to something that they were hesitant of doing or saying. The smile of defeat in which they know that holding it in any longer isn't an option and they try and give a happy face. That smile, mixed with a sigh of remorse, triggered an immediate response. But this smile however, was slowly replaced with tears as Ginny talked. "It's Harry," she cried. "He's..." she trailed off.

Hermione was breathless and worried. The last time Ginny had cried about Harry, it was right before he was about to go to the woods and die. "He's what?" she asked, her eyes growing. "Ginny, what happened?"

However, the crying woman in front of her would be no help. Ginny just kept shaking her head as tears fell. Hermione sighed and pulled her closer again. If she wouldn't talk, she could still answer with her head.

"Is he-is he dead?" she asked, deciding to go with the worst first. It'd be better to confirm the worst than go through trial after trial, making Ginny grieve more.

Luckily, she shook her head. Hermione let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't dead. She asked a few more questions, and Harry wasn't injured, sick, and he didn't leave Ginny.

Impatient now, and extremely tired, Hermione shook Ginny's shoulders. "Then what? What is wrong with him?" She was past worried now. She had passed worried on her way to annoyed from devastation.

Ginny stood up abruptly and placed her head in her hands. "He's with the bloofy Aurors!" she exclaimed and slapped her fists to her sides. She sighed, happy to have finally gotten that out.

However, Hermione stood, completely puzzled. "What...what is so bad about that?" she asked. She crossed her arms over her chest and the warmth of Draco's hand on her left one was still eminent as it brushed against her breast. Even when he was the furthest thing from her mind, he still managed to sneak in.

Ginny sighed and rubbed her hands against her raw, rough face. It was red and swollen looking with no make-up in sight. She seemed to have been crying for hours. "There was another attack," she whispered.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, unsure what she meant. But then her eyes grew in shock and in worry.

"A bit north of Edinburgh. Right around...right around where Hogwarts is," she said in a small voice. Hermione was speechless, shaking her head back in forth in shock. She regretted her frustrated behaviour from moments before. Ginny coughed before she went on. She ran her hand through her hair a few times before looking Hermione in the eye. "They called a meeting. The Aurors, I mean. About the entire thing. They decided the best thing to do was...was to camp and find who's behind this and stop them once and for all," she hiccuped. "Harry's going to be gone for a while, maybe a year at the most," she said through her tears. "Since they don't have any leads, it could be longer."

Hermione felt her heart break for her two friends. She stepped forward and wrapped Ginny in another hug. This one was longer and full of sympathy. "Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry." She rocked them as they hugged, not something she usually did. Hermione didn't really hug people unless it was something upsetting. "I really am. I don't know how this could feel, losing a loved one and not knowing when you'd see them again..." Her mind momentarily flashed to Draco and his hand on hers. She shook the thought away. "But...I know that no matter what, things will look up. You can stay here a few nights too, if you'd like. My place is always open," she smiled.

Ginny relaxed in Hermione's arms. "Thanks," she whispered. "But I couldn't possibly intrude on your life like this. It's not at all like me. I could never."

"Please," Hermione said, breaking the hug. "I insist." Her eyes watched the face of her long time friend. Ginny's eyes still flooded with tears although none fell, and she gave a small sigh.

"I'll think about it...Maybe," she said finally and Hermione smiled at the possibility. Ginny sighed and wiped some straggling tears away. "I'm just...just worried that-that..." Her shoulders began to shake as she thought about her husband of just over one month dying. "E-even the idea is unbearable..." she sobbed.

With a sigh, Hermione grabbed Ginny's face in her hands "Listen to me," she said in a croaked voice. Lack of sleep and fear for her friends turned her voice into an that of an 80 year-old smoker's. "Ginevra Molly Potter, you will not become a widow. You and Harry will live a long, long, life together, have babies, raise your family and die together on your porch in each other's arms when you're going on 90," she said in a slow voice. "And I don't want you to think any different, okay?"

Ginny nodded, albeit hesitantly. "But what if-?"

"No what ifs," Hermione persisted. "He's going to live. Whether you see him next week, next month, or next year, Harry will live and give you the life you've always dreamed of. So don't you doubt for one second that he won't return to you, because I swear on my life, Ginny, he will turn to the Dark Side before making you unhappy."

The girls were quiet for a moment and Ginny avoided Hermione's eyes. All she said was true, but she didn't want to admit it.

Hermione closed her eyes and stood up. She looked down at the top of Ginny's red head and sighed. "I'm going to make you tea. Go get your necessities, you're staying here tonight." Hermione walked into the kitchenette in a robot-like fashion. Ginny didn't say anything back or retort the decision; she was too tired to care any more, and stood to get her things.

"Fucking balloons," Draco mumbled and let one long, green tube fly from his fingers and sputter around the room before landing on the dining room table. He grabbed it again and tried to charm it to expand, but once again, his fingers accidentally released it. The force of air from the spell was too much, no matter how hard he held onto it. He brought the deflated balloon to his lips and blew into it instead as he walked around the kitchen. Once the balloon was filled with Draco's moist breath, he tied it up.

He reached for the next balloon, and the next one, his anger slowly tapering as he got closer to his work being finished. By the time the last balloon was tied, he had begun whistling a small tune that his wife used to sing to Haley. It involved mockingbirds and diamond rings, but that was all he could remember with the lyrics.

Today, February 26th, was Haley's fifth birthday, and Draco wanted to make it special. It's not like her other birthdays weren't special, it was just that he thought each birthday should just get better and better. Haley's birthday fell on a Saturday this year, so in order to prepare for her party, Draco had sent her to his mother's house. They were going to return any time and he had to be ready. Haley wasn't going to have a friend party this year; instead, she was bringing cupcakes to her ballet class on Monday. Which was completely fine with Draco. It meant that seven-some little girls would _not _be running around his house on a sugar high, and then someone would throw up on the settee and covered it with a blanket only to be found 15 minutes after the party ends by Draco accidentally sitting on it. No. None of that would happen today.

Draco took the blown up balloons and taped them to corners, walls, and nooks around the first floor of the cottage. Haley's presents sat on the dining room table along with the cake.

Even though Draco could cook, it didn't necessarily mean he could bake a cake. So, like the normal, modern, single father ordered a big, pink, ballerina cake and topped it with lots of frosting, sprinkles, and five 'magic' Muggle candles that can't be blown out. He thought it'd stump his little girl. She was rather intelligent; he didn't believe she'd get upset over the still-lit candles, but he could only wonder.

Hermione, who had been to the Malfoy household everyday since the wedding, had been missing since Thursday. She had taken the eldest dancers of her studio to a convention and competition up in Scotland. They had to travel by train instead of Apparition since the dancers were Muggles, and as the time for the group to board the train came, Draco couldn't help but feel bad for Granger. The competition was supposed finish around 2 in the afternoon, and it was five now. He didn't expect her to be back in time for the party, and he didn't think she would have come anyway.

Just as Draco finished wiping down the counter-top for what seemed like the fifteenth time in an hour, there came a soft knock on the door. A knock that soft only came from someone so weak – his mother. Brushing down his clothes to look acceptable for his mother, Draco hurried to the door and opened it with a wide smile.

"Dae!" Haley exclaimed and jumped into her father's arms. "Hi Dae," she whispered as she burrowed her face in his shoulder.

"Hi Bug," Draco said into her hair. "Happy fifth birthday!" He exclaimed and set her down on the ground. He crouched down next to her and raised his eyebrows. "Are you ready for your party?" he asked with a smile.

Haley jumped up and down as Draco steadied her with his big, strong hands. "Of course Daddy! Where's my cake?" she asked excitedly.

Draco picked his now five year old daughter up and zoomed her into the kitchen. "Right there," he said, showing her the ballerina cake. "But you have to eat your dinner first. And it's Saturday, so you know what that means..."

"Soup!" Haley exclaimed and hopped from his arms. She stood on her tip-toes and was able to see the cheesy potato soup in the pot. "I can reach the spoon; look Daddy!" Haley pointed out as she grabbed the wooden spoon. "It's 'cause I'm older so I'm bigger and I can reach things. Don't you think so, Daddy?" she said with a smile.

Draco grabbed the spoon from her hands and swirled the soup. "I do," he smiled and went to grab a bowl. "Why don't you sit down? I can give you your dinner then," he said, preparing her food. Draco heard the sound of Haley bounce and sit in the cheetah cushioned chair.

"Care about me at all?" asked Narcissa as she walked into the kitchen.

Draco rolled his eyes as he saw his solemn mother set her coat on the rack. Her face was sad and her eyes looked cold. "You know I do; don't pretend like I don't," Draco said as he walked over with his hand holding a bowl. He gave her a one armed hug. "I love you, Mother," he whispered in her ear. He exited the hug and slid the white and blue porcelain bowl towards Haley. "Thanks for watching her while I got this ready," he smiled and got a bowl for himself.

Narcissa sat down at the table and toyed with the balloon strings. "It was nothing," she whispered and smiled at Haley. "I always like being with my little Haley." Draco smiled and set a bowl in front of his seat. He went to grab another bowl for Narcissa who politely waved it off.

Draco sat, and the room was quiet. There was only the occasional slurp that came from Haley's hunger. He corrected Haley that slurping wasn't proper and that she should place the spoon in her mouth. Haley nodded and was successful next time.

When Draco reached the bottom of the bowl, the spoon made a loud scraping noise. Narcissa cringed. Haley started laughing and scraped her spoon too, a bit louder and a bit faster. Draco stopped scraping and looked up. Haley met eye contact with her dad and grinned. Before they knew it, the pair were racing to finish their soup while scraping the bottom of the bowl.

"Done!" Haley announced happily with a mouthful of soup. She let her spoon fall and swirl in the bowl for a second as she swallowed. She laughed loudly. "Haha! I beat you Daddy!"

Draco laughed and took a napkin to clean her dirty face. "You sure did, sweetie. Ready for cake now?"

Haley didn't have time to answer. The cold, dark kitchen's door swung open to reveal a blustering and shivering Hermione enter in. Her cheeks were cherry red and her perfected teeth were chattering. She wore a beanie hat that hardly seemed to be keeping her warm. She stomped her feet on the door mat, ridding her shoes of unwanted snow. "Sorry for barging in," Hermione apologised, smiling widely. "I wanted to see the birthday girl."

"Miss Hermione!" Haley shrieked and ran towards the cold woman who just straggled in. "You're here!" Hermione bent down to engulf the young girl in her arms. Over Haley's shoulder, she could see Draco watching them with a smile on his face. Hermione shot back a similar one.

"I am here," Hermione said in a small voice, looking down at the bounding girl in front of her.

Draco smiled. "Hey, Bug?" Haley turned around obediently to face her father. "You said her name right."

"You did!" Hermione exclaimed happily, leaving her mouth slightly agape. She shook Haley happily and tickled her. "Good job Haley!" The little girl laughed from being tickled and with a kiss on her head, Hermione ceased the tickling.

Draco got Hermione a chair, and as he pushed her in towards the table, they caught brief eye contact. It was no secret that the moment Hermione sneaked in to join the party, the awkward and gloomy feeling had left.

Narcissa still sat in little corner of the table, watching everything like an unnoticed hawk. If one didn't focus too much on the scene, she seemed to vanish within the walls. The war had permanently affected her views of the world and her well-being. Even Draco, being more compassionate and nice, could not break his mother's shell. She was just too broken.

Hermione bit her lip as she leant against the table to smile at Haley. "So, what did you get for your birthday?" she questioned, intrigued.

Haley shrugged. "I don't know yet; will you help me open my presents?" she asked with a hopeful look.

After 10 minutes of carefully unwrapping presents and ooing and ahhing for a moment, all of Haley's gifts were exposed. Draco had gotten her a new colouring book (ballerina themed), a Muggle ballet film, and a pretty charm necklace with a pair of ballet shoes on it. Narcissa had bought Haley a few new ensembles: one was a yellow rain jacket with black galoshes and a matching yellow hat and umbrella. There was also a springy pink dress and a brown pinafore.

"Don't you have something to say to Gamma?" Draco asked Haley as he rubbed her back.

Haley thought for a moment and then nodded. "Thank you Gamma!"

Narcissa uttered a small smile and sat back. "If that's all the gifts, why don't we cut the cake?" she asked, reaching for the knife. Haley looked eagerly at the cake. She whipped her tongue around her mouth as if licking her lips in a cartoon way.

"Actually," Hermione butted in and Narcissa gave her a death glare, "I have a gift for Haley." The birthday girl's eyes grew and she smiled, showing off all of her baby teeth.

Hermione grabbed her bag that was slung at her side and started to rummage through it. With no avail of finding the gift, she stood up and set the bag on the table to find it easier. Again, with all that lived in her enchanted handbag, the present wasn't coming up. With a sigh, she pulled out her wand, muttered a _Lumos_, and then dug her hand back in. "Aha!" she proclaimed once she pulled out a yellow gift with blue sting around it. "Happy Birthday Haley," she said as she handed over the gift.

The shy girl whispered back a thank you as she gripped the present. It was about medium sized and when she ripped it open, she saw it was just a cardboard box. She struggled to get the box open, so Draco helped his young daughter.

As the white wrapping paper was pulled aside, Haley's face grew. She pulled out two pink pointe shoes. They were small, but too big for her feet. The shiny pink ribbons were already sown on, along with elastic. "I hope you use them for your first pair," Hermione smiled. "You can't use them yet, no, but you can save them."

Haley held the shoes to her chest; her face shown a everlasting painting of adoration. Her smile was a masterpiece and her eyes glowed with love. "I love them," Haley said in a small voice. "Thank you Miss Hermione."

"You're welcome." Hermione smiled back at Haley, who then grinned even wider.

After the cake – which was white cake with vanilla and pink frosting – was eaten, Draco popped in the new film and sat Haley on the sofa so she could watch it. He popped her a bit of popcorn, just enough to satisfy her craving. Draco, however, had his own craving that needed to be satisfied.

He excused his mother for a moment, explaining that he needed to speak with Hermione for a moment before hurrying them upstairs. "Draco what are you doing?" Hermione enquired as he shut the door. But he pinned Granger up against the door and pressed his moist lips onto her chapped ones. He kissed her for a few moments, in a heated, quick tango. He slid his tongue along her lower lip before entering her mouth.

Hermione struggled beneath his grip and eventually shimmied down the door and out of his vice like hold. "What the hell was that?" she asked, rubbing her swollen lips along her arm. Draco opened his mouth to speak but Hermione beat him to it. "What in the world are you thinking? The first thing you say – or well, do – when we're alone is pounce on me like a lion attacking prey!" Draco looked down at hands, ashamed. "This is your _daughter's birthday_ and you distract her so you can stick it to me?" she exclaimed, completely disgusted. She sighed and rubbed her arms. "At least talk to me first; strike a conversation before you even kiss me! I told you about the competition and you didn't even ask me how it went or even how or why I got here so quickly. And you kiss me so roughly every time it makes my lip bleed. You can never just be gentle!" she said in a rather angry tone.

In an instant, Hermione's strong, angry face melted and she blushed a deep shade of scarlet. She shook her head and buried it in her hands. She sat on Draco's bed and crossed her legs. Draco sighed and sat beside her. He had the urge to take her hand and hold it in his, but instead he hesitantly patted her back in a robotic-like manner. It was sort of awkward; he didn't really know how to deal with the...emotional stuff. He was usual the physical guy. Never had a girl – minus his wife – ever ask him to be more _gentle._ Draco cleared his throat and looked at Granger's face-less head. "How was the competition?" he asked.

After about a minute of silence and Draco playing with his wedding band, Hermione looked up and ran her hands through the bottom of her bushy hair. "Quite amazing actually. Thanks for asking," she added sarcastically. "During the convention part, they held classes by some famous dancers and I got a few new ideas for next year. And during the competition piece, out of eight group dances, three got first place, four got second and one got third. Which is not bad by all means. And all of the solos got seconds except for one got a first. And the duos and trios – three each – got four firsts and two seconds all together." She smiled at the recent memory of her students, smiling from cheek to cheek while holding large, shiny, gold trophies.

"That's great," Draco said with a growing smile. "Fantastic really. You did a good job at those. I like the whole...bird one. What did that get?" he asked.

Hermione sat up a bit straighter. "First," she said matter-of-factly. "They eventually embraced their inner birds."

They continued to talk. Hermione explained that she remembered that today was Haley's birthday and she wanted to see her and wish her a happy birthday, so the group left the ending ceremonies sooner and boarded an earlier train. Hermione Apparated right as the last student left with their parents.

The conversation varied from then; from dancing to Africa to Eden to sex. "So," Draco smiled as he thought of his next question. "Who popped the beaver's cherry?" he laughed at his own wording.

Hermione's mouth went agape and she avoided his eyes. "Is that an appropriate question?" she laughed.

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Have we been doing any appropriate for the last two months?" he asked rhetorically. "Come on, just tell me, Granger. Who took your virginity?"

With a squeal, Hermione lay her head back on the bed and put her hands up to her face. "Bidker Llam," she mumbled.

"What?" Draco asked, laying beside her. He moved her hands. "I didn't hear you," he said with a smirk.

With a final sigh, Hermione pulled her hands away. "It was Viktor Krum. Happy?" she asked, propping herself on her elbows.

Draco wasn't sure if he was happy. He furrowed his eyebrows. Of all people, he did not expect Hermione to say Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker. He expected Weasley or some American he'd never even heard of. Definitely not Krum. "How in the hell did that happen?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Granger blushed again and pulled her knees to her chest. "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this," she muttered under her breath. "But, it was a few weeks after the Yule Ball and Viktor and I were in the library, talking, when he kissed me – mind you we had kissed before. But not as...passionate.

"Before I knew it, he'd invited me to the ship and well, I couldn't say no. I don't remember exactly how he slipped me in, but we made it to his room in the ship. Since he was famed at Durmstrang, he had his own room, so...I guess it was the perfect setting," she said with a laugh. "And then he kissed me again, and again, and asked me if I was a virgin. I was so humiliated but said yes, and he asked if I wouldn't mind saying no after tonight. And I responded by-by kissing him back," she stuttered as she retold the story.

"And how was it?" Draco asked, putting his hands behind his head.

Hermione seemed to have stared off to space. "What? Oh, sorry," she blushed. "Um, at the time, I thought it was, well, the best thing of my life. But now compared to...well, others, he wasn't as good," she said with a smile.

Draco grinned from ear to ear. "Well, thank you," he smiled. Granger rolled her eyes and slapped his shoulder.

"I didn't mean just you..." She let herself trail off and gratefully, Draco didn't persist in who she meant. "Who did you lose your virginity to?" she asked.

Draco didn't hesitate. "Pansy fucking Parkinson. Worst decision of my life. I could've done so much better," he muttered under his breath. "It was awkward; she was inexperienced too, and afterwards, I swore never to do her again."

"Did you?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. "Well, yeah, of course. No Malfoy says no to free sex in their teens." He chuckled at this stupid memories. "So, has this conversation been better than me, 'putting the moves on you'?" he asked.

Hermione twisted her mouth in thought. "Kinda. I kind of like the change. I got to know who you are and observe you."

Draco laughed. "Observe me? What did you observe?"

"Well," she paused. "I observed the way that your face stretches when you laugh or the way your nose crinkles when you're shocked or disgusted. I found out that you raise your eyebrows way too much and have a weird habit of twisting your wedding band. And I also realised that you're cold – temperature wise, not personality. Any more at least. And you're very pale with super white hair that would impress the snow. And you're kind of like snow. But with more opinions."

Draco laughed at her final comment. "Well, thanks Granger. I learned stuff about you too." She raised her eyebrows in wonder. "For starters, when _you_ laugh, you keep your mouth halfway open, and your teeth never touch. You love animals so much it should be illegal. When you're tired – and I can tell you're tired because you have bags under your eyes – you twist your hair. And, the most obvious of all, you blush all the way to your fingertips whenever you talk. _Every time_."

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes. "You're crazy," she insisted.

"I know," Draco shrugged. "Now that we've had a conversation, I'd be okay to attack you with a kiss now, right?" he asked.

"Right," Hermione nodded, biting her lip.

With a smirk on his lips, Draco leant forward and brushed his lips against Hermione's softly. It only last for about a minute or two, and no one groped the other or tried to remove their clothing. It was just a kind, gentle kiss. When it ended, Draco sat up.

"I have to go check on Haley now. She's been quiet for too long." He looked back at Hermione who was just sitting up. She sported a small smile. "Besides, like you said, it _is_ her birthday. I shouldn't be so selfish." Draco watched her out of the corner of his eye as he travelled across the room and shut the door slowly and carefully.

**A/N: I hope you all liked it! There's some symbolism in there if some of you caught it :)**

**For those who didn't know or couldn't tell, before Hermione showed up, Haley's birthday was a rather grey event. Grey as in sad, quiet, solemn. Hermione brought some light and happiness to the occasion.**

**This is probably a mark of halfway through the fanfic or so. It's only going to get better from here :) **

**I also have a question for you all. How did you come across this story and why did you decide to read it? Tell me in a Review!**

**I'm losing readers lately and that makes me sad, so please Review so I know you're there? Plus, I'm posting this on my actual birthday (the 26th of February) so maybe your Reviews will be like a giant birthday gift!**

**I love you all! Don't forget to Favourite, Follow, and most of all Review! You're all amazing.**

**And just a reminder, I do have a tumblr (lovelikeawallflower) and I post updates there :) **

**LOVE YOU ALL! **

**xoxo -Eagles**


	21. C'est la mort

**A/N: And yes, this is the chapter many of you have been waiting for :)**

**I hope I didn't suck at it! I do have to say, that this chapter is rather M or MA rated due to psychological and sexual themes. If you have any problem with certain descriptions, feel free to jump right over them, because even writing this has disturbed me. Chapter title comes from the song, "C'est la mort" by The Civil Wars which I also suggest you listen to while reading or at least look up the lyrics first :) It kinda fits the chapter. Happy reading!**

Hermione sat silently in Haley's bedroom, gently stroking the girl's hair. She didn't say anything as Draco let his own fingertips trail along the lines of her arms. He took her petite hand and brushed his thumb that covered the back of her hand. Her skin looked untouched, pleasant, like the naked canvas of an uninspired artist. It was pale and smooth, but if skin was like experiences, hers would be bloody and ripped, with missing pieces here and there with soiled, discoloured patches.

Draco closed his eyes with thoughts of the past flashing through his mind. The masks, the flashes of fear that appeared on their faces, the shrill, blood curdling, heart breaking cries.

"Draco!" Hermione rocked him out of his trance. In thinking back to the end of his family, Malfoy had zoned out and hadn't noticed Granger take her hand away. His eyes grew at the sight of Haley, sleeping soundly by her father's touch. She hadn't gotten a nightmare, it seemed. He'd actually done it. "She's calm! She – she's actually calm! Merlin! Oh my word!" Hermione was absolutely ecstatic. She felt like crying she was so happy! Her eyes swarmed with tears as she watched the miracle before her.

It was breathtaking. Draco was simply in awe. Many months before now, he would never have been able to keep her calm. Never. And now, thanks to Hermione Granger, he had a peaceful daughter again. It almost seemed as if nothing had happened. Although something had.

Hermione continued to exclaim her happiness as she paced Haley's room. Draco watched her with adoring eyes. The former Gryffindor, former pain in his arse, former bossy, nerdy, annoying Muggleborn that he used to hate now was crying from joy over his daughter. She truly cared. _Truly_. Whether it was about him or Haley was the question.

And Draco was tired. Tired of keeping secrets for so long. Tired of lying to Granger. Tired of lying in general. He needed to scream it out, to tell someone. His mother had suggested counselling shortly after the whole ordeal was finished with. Draco was still mourning the loss of his wife, and was trying to get used to his new job as a full-time single father.

"There's no way I'm putting Haley into counselling so young," he had told her after Haley was safe in bed. "No chance."

"I wasn't talking about Haley," Narcissa had said before hurrying down the stairs and storming out of the door.

That was the first night of the nightmares.

Draco cleared his mind of that night. He looked up and saw Hermione staring down at Haley's delicate features. Her fingers felt the magnetic pull of her motherly instincts but she pulled her hand away. Draco needed this time with his daughter. She sighed and travelled towards the door before Draco blindly grabbed her hand. He squeezed it and lay it on top of his. "Just because I'm with Haley doesn't mean you don't have to help her too."

Hermione smiled and let her thumb brush against the roots of Haley's hair and then her forehead. "I really think she's something. She could be a star with dance," she whispered. "You could enrol her in more classes next year like tap or jazz or even gymnastics," she exclaimed eagerly.

"Shh," Draco hushed her. "Shh, shh, shh," he mumbled, grasping her hand after a moment. "Maybe. But I think we need to focus on Haley's well-being and health first, right?" he asked, looking up at Hermione.

For the first time in a long time, Hermione locked her eyes with Draco's. "Right," she said quietly and stroked his hand. "Shh, shh, shh," she repeated. After a moment, she added a belated, "shh."

That caused Draco to burst into quiet laughter; silent enough to keep Haley sleeping, but plenty loud to get Hermione to join in. They laughed together for a while, first creating waves of giggling before they settled down to the tides of chuckling.

After about five minutes of beautiful silence and circling, gentle hands, Draco's hand gravitated to clasp Hermione's. He intertwined their fingers and brought her hand to his lips. "Thank you," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. "Thank you so much."

Hermione shook her head and squeezed his hand. "Don't mention it. Really. It's-it's the least I could do," she said back. She took her hand back and rubbed it with her other hand. Her heart had beat so quickly when he grabbed her hand, but her brain said he was made of acid.

Draco licked his lips and looked up at her. She avoided his gaze and closed her eyes. She couldn't take it much longer; she was a curious, curious person, and the lies, excuses and doubt were beginning to eat away at her and she was done. With a quiet huff of frustration, Hermione turned and burst out of the door.

Within two seconds of realising Hermione had fled, Draco had jumped to his feet and raced off after her. Not literally raced, of course; she was still in the sitting room. "Where are you going?" Draco asked with a slight smile creeping up on his face. "Did you forget about reading?" Reading had become some kind of a habit between the two. Hermione had already finished seven novels while Draco was still stuck on the Pureblood book – it was a rather long novel.

Hermione played out the scene how she wished it would go in her head:

"Tell me what happened with Haley and your wife!" she would exclaim in a rather loud and echoing voice. "I'm entirely and fully SICK of you keeping this to yourself! You have to let it out sometime! I'm ready to listen! I'm fully aware of Haley's strange behaviour and the sudden loss of your wife, I just want to know the cause!" At this point, Draco would be hanging in his head in shame. "And I thought maybe, just maybe, if you told me, I could help, maybe even talk to Haley about it! But you, being the extremely snotty git that you are, won't even tell me one detail! All I'm asking for is for you to be open with what happened!"

Draco, ashamed in his actions, would proceed to explain the whole traumatising story, not leaving out a single detail or piece of dialogue. And then Hermione would hug him when he'd cry, and tell him it was okay, and that at least things were out on the table.

But the war scarred Hermione, and she found it hard to be brave again. She cleared her throat and grabbed her book that had recently been sitting on the dining room table. She balanced it on one of its corners and took a deep breath. She gripped it and dragged her heavy weight body to the sofa. "I must've," she said quietly before plopping down and opening her book. Draco hadn't asked her what this new one entailed like he usually did, but she didn't care.

Draco's eyebrows met as he studied Hermione. Vacant expression, seemingly miffed, jagged breaths as if holding in an explosion...He knew what this meant, having dealt with it with his own wife for months. He sat beside Hermione and drummed his fingers before turning to face her. "Your time?" he asked hesitantly.

Hermione's neck slowly turned so she could face the smirking man. Her mouth gaped for a moment and she looked at him like he was a mutant chimpanzee. "No!" she exclaimed and stuffed her head back into her book.

"Then what is it?" Draco asked persistently. "You aren't acting like the Granger I know. You're acting like...like the Granger from school. The Granger I didn't like."

"So you like me now?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book. Draco gave an embarrassed shrug and a nod of his head. "If you like me," she questioned, "then why don't you tell me?" she asked.

Draco knew exactly what she was talking about. They both had thought about it recently, and it made sense. Hermione was such an important piece in the puzzle that was his and Haley's life right now, she deserved to know. She really did. He harrumphed and grabbed his hardly read book off the coffee table. "I will tell you," he said. "I promise. I will tell you first thing in the morning. The moment I wake up, you can ask as many questions as you wish."

Hermione reopened her book and smiled over to Draco. "Really?" she asked eagerly like a child on Christmas Eve who just found out they could open a present early. Draco only gave a small nod and flashed a smile before going back to his book.

They sat in their acquired silence for 15 minutes before, by habit, their hands found each other. Hermione let a small smirk play on her lips as Draco's hand slowly heated. And like that, it was gone. She hardly had time to pout before she felt a strong, muscular arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest. Instinctively, Hermione dipped her head down to rest on his shoulders and Draco kissed her head.

10 more minutes passed, and finally Hermione looked up at her blonde companion. His eyes didn't dart back and forth throughout the pages. In fact, they looked at if he were staring at one word. Hermione let out a small chuckle. "How long have you been reading the same paragraph?" she asked curiously.

"10 minutes. What about you?" Draco asked monotonously.

"Since I sat down."

Draco grinned from ear to ear and tossed his book to the other side of the sofa. Hermione grimaced as the book fell with a plop! and then slid off the leather cover. "To be utterly truthful, I've been on the same page for almost a week now. I can't really seem to think properly enough to read," he admitted.

"I understand," Hermione smiled and set her novel down in a civil matter. "I've been the same way."

"Oh really?" Draco asked, trying to hide the smirk that urged to grin.

"Really," Hermione said, flicking her eyes up to meet his. For the first time since their sexual agreement occurred, she leant forward and initiated the kiss.

And what a kiss it was.

It was not driven by sexual desire, and it certainly did not compare to any type of crazy, animal-like behaviours. It was soft, sensual, like feathers dancing with each other. Hermione's lips glided across Draco's jawline before she met his tender, rose bud lips once more.

Draco let his tongue slip into her mouth periodically and roam. He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up. Hermione wrapped her legs around his torso and they slowly – as if crawling – made their way to his bedroom.

By the beginning, Hermione knew this was not going to be heated like it normally was. This was going to be a soft, gentle experience. One that Hermione had been desiring.

Her feet dropped to the wooden ground of the floor as Draco deepened the kiss. She felt like they were not two lips kissing, but rather one. His body was pressed up to hers as he kissed her and kissed her more.

Hermione's knees began to wobble and with Draco's hand on her back for support, she fell to the bed slowly. Their moist lips parted for a moment but their foreheads stayed connected. With a nipped kiss here and there, Draco lay Hermione on the bed. On his hands and knees, he began to crawl over her body. He met her forehead and kissed her nose and then her lips. They said no words, just kissed as he hovered above her body.

With gentle caressing, Draco successfully pulled Hermione's top up and over her head. He didn't grip one of her breasts like her usually did, instead, he let his hand barely graze her purple bra as he fiddled with the button and fly on her jeans.

Draco captured Hermione's lips again once both of their clothes were spread somewhere around the room. Their lips could've weaved silk as they created a synchronised opera. The quick, bated breaths they took aroused Draco even more as Granger's chest heaved.

It took her a few minutes to realise that Draco was already inside of her. He had been so gentle and soft, she hadn't felt a thing. Now she felt the searing, swollen pleasure and she arched her back from beneath him.

Draco sprinkled kisses that hardly touched her around her neck and collarbone. He left his hand against her back, occasionally drawing circles along her lower back. They were in no hurry, and the slow, rhythmic thrusts gave small sparks of pleasure. He slid out of her for temporarily and kissed her lips once. Then he continued to pepper the rest of her body with short, sweet kisses. He rubbed her swollen, tender clit before kissing it and licking it. He sucked and pleased her shortly, teasing Hermione. She hitched her hips up against his face, searching for more. But Draco, with a shiny, wet face smirked and kissed Hermione instead.

He settled himself back into her and slowly pleased her until Hermione was shaking out the last of her orgasm. Something about it being 3 in the morning made everything so much more perfect. Maybe it was because their first time had happened at 3 in the morning or that everything made sense when you were half asleep. But Hermione knew that when Draco collapsed on her, it felt completely perfect.

Draco began to slide out of Hermione when she stopped him. "Stay," she pleaded. "For a little bit."

"Are you sure?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really."

Draco smiled and rearranged himself. He bent forward and kissed Granger, licking his tongue along her lower lip. Hermione smiled and kept her legs wrapped around him. He kissed her again, this time keeping his nose a hairbreadth away as he slid his hands down her thigh and to her bum. He let his hand rest there for a while and he just watched Granger close her eyes and take deep breaths.

Her face was flushed and her breasts larger from arousal. Draco thought back to when he first saw her again. She had wore curve hugging yoga pants and a tight purple jacket. And he noticed that her lips were a bit plumper. As she breathed and slowly fell asleep, her slightly dented lips were full from kissing.

Hesitantly, Draco pulled himself out when Granger was asleep, and pulled her to his chest. He kissed her head and it eerily felt like he was kissing a corpse.

§

As the sunlight streamed in the next morning and highlighted Draco's chest, Hermione squinted her eyes. She had been awake for about an hour now, and she guessed it was about 8 in the morning. It was a miracle Haley was not up and bothering them yet.

Suddenly, she remembered Draco's promise, and gently kissed his bottom lip. He didn't move. She tried again and again until she felt him stir in his sleep. She closed her eyes and rested on his chest, pretending to be sleeping. When Draco let out a loud groan, she let herself open her eyes. "Morning," she said through a yawn.

"Good morning," Draco mumbled. In his marriage, he'd normally add 'beautiful' at the end. He desperately wanted to slip it in, but Granger talked before he could change his mind.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Did you love your wife?" she asked. It didn't even sound like anything was said. Merely, it seemed as if she had exhaled a long breath that sounded like the depiction of words. She felt Draco reposition beneath her, possibly thinking about how he was going to respond. She sat with held breath.

"No," he started. "No, I didn't love Astoria."

Hermione lifted her head off of Draco's chest and looked down at him. All of a sudden, she became self-conscious and kept a sheet to her chest. "Astoria?" she asked in awe.

"Greengrass, yes," Draco answered, avoiding Hermione's eye contact. He wanted to break every non-living thing in the world right now from the burning memories. He felt his skin crawling with the heat and anger. "Daphne's younger sister."

Hermione put her head in her hands. "That's who you married? Astoria Greengrass is the mother of Haley?" she asked. The words seemed to ooze in her mouth like an unwanted specimen.

In an answer, Draco grabbed his wand off his dresser and waved it near the pictures. Almost instantly, the photos began to change. A dark haired witch with piercing blue eyes was laughing at Draco as he made a young, pudgy Haley wave at the camera; the same witch appeared next to Draco holding an infant Haley, and occasionally she kissed his lips; and while squinting, Hermione could see the witch materialise in the wedding photo, wearing a gorgeous, fairytale-like wedding dress.

Hermione smiled with awe as she watched the scenes play and replay within the frames. "She was so pretty," she observed, and sat up with the sheet around her chest. "I guess I never noticed the Greengrasses..." She waited for Draco to say more, but remembered her wouldn't without her asking questions. She took a deep breath and looked into her hand. "Why did you marry her?" she asked, even though she thought she knew the answer.

"My parents, well, mother actually, thought it'd be best if I married a child of high Pureblood authority. Daphne was already in a relationship and I did not want to marry Pansy, so I bought a ring and proposed to Astoria. We got married that spring, in April," he said without a glimmer of a smile on his face.

Hermione gave a thoughtful look. "When did Astoria get pregnant for Haley?" she asked next.

Draco finally let a smile slide through as he thought about that day. He had no idea the affect that day would have on him in the future. "In June of that year, 1999."

"Wait – 1999? You got married less than a year after the battle?" Hermione asked. She glanced back at Draco; her eyes had wavered for a moment as he talked, but now she had his full attention.

Draco gave a small, unbelieving laugh. "Yes. All my mother's planning, I assure you. I went to a Muggle Uni for almost a year before she pulled me out to marry Astoria." He cleared his throat. "And then, well, she got pregnant with Haley, and things were good for a while..."

Then there was a moment of silence, maybe to honour Astoria who had long died; maybe for Hermione to think of her next question; maybe for Draco to recuperate emotionally from sharing so little. But all those maybes were just a part of one big uncertainty.

"How did Astoria die and – and what happened to Haley?" Hermione tried to ask in a strong voice, but all that came out was a sort of weird cracking noise. She stay perfectly still, too scared to stand and touch Draco.

Again, as if expecting it, there was silence. Finally, after clearing his throat, Draco spoke. "Lay down, close your eyes, and I'll tell you..."

§

_The damp, dark wind fell onto the outskirts of London like a giant bird's wing. Hardly anyone noticed, and those who did shook it off like an April shower. It always seemed to be either damp, dark or windy in England. On the occasions when it was sunny, everyone automatically was in a good mood. But even through all the cloudiness, Draco Malfoy seemed to be happy. _

_ "When will she learn that 'Mummy' means me and not you?" Astoria said in a toneless voice as she wiped down the kitchen counter. She had been in a horrible mood all day, due to the bad weather no doubt. _

_ Astoria was referring to the many times in which Draco had asked Haley where Mummy was and she had gone sprinting into her father's arms. Without hesitation, Draco would engulf her in his arms, and spin her two-year old body around the room until she got dizzy. It was a rather cute thing when you weren't watching from afar, wishing your child would play with you as much as she did her other parent._

_ Draco's smile from watching his daughter disappear into her bedroom faded. "I'm not sure," he started sarcastically. "But maybe she'd have an easier time identifying between the two of us if her mother actually acted like a mother!" he exclaimed rather rudely. _

_ His wife whipped her head around to face him, her straight, dark brown hair over-whipped and covered her neck and shoulders like a scarf. "I act as much like a mother as you do a father!" she persisted._

_ "If that's true, then Haley's got some shitty parents, doesn't she?" Draco exclaimed back. He began to get worked up and panted, his face turning red. "You were never there when she needed you. You became a ghost after she was born! I physically had to unbutton your shirt and put Haley in your arms just so she could nurse! I changed all of her nappies, woke up at 4 am every night to rock her back to sleep, and played with her almost every moment of her life. The only thing "motherly" you've ever done is provide what was already given to you: the ability to birth and her food for the early stages of her life! I could have cared for her all on my own if there wasn't those two necessities," he argued. _

_ This argument started most arguments in their house. And most arguments happened at least once a week, twice if Astoria was lucky. She had some crazy thing about fights. She almost lived off of them, like they were her food. It was rather sad. It wasn't her fault though, not entirely. She had watched friends be murdered as she was forced into hiding during the Battle of Hogwarts at only 15 years old. During their first year of marriage, she recalled events that had happened, like the murder of her best friend who tried to fight her parents, or when, while escaping, multiple bricks fell on her and bruised her all over her body. She had been traumatised, and not even a year later, at 16 years old, had to get married and then have a baby less than a year later from then. Astoria was practically __thrown into adulthood. But it still did not give her a right to be emotionally distant with her own child._

_ They continued to fight, throwing insults at each other until they were hoarse. Draco felt tired and physically drained from constantly fighting. He gave up eventually and went to see how Haley was holding up. _

_ The little girl had curled up into a small ball on her bed. She looked so innocent and sweet. There were no marks, nor scars, whether physical, mental, or emotional. For once, she looked like an unfinished masterpiece. _

_ Draco ambled over to his daughter and crouched, meeting her eye to eye. "Hi Bugga Boo," he said in a soft voice. His anger subsided as he smiled down at the young girl that would make his day any day. _

_ "Hi Dae," she said quietly. "C'mere," she whispered and motioned with her hands. Draco obediently bent his head forward, closer to Haley. Their noses were almost touching. "Why do you fight lady?" she asked, slurring her words slightly like a two-year old did. 'Lady' was how Haley referred to her mother._

_ "That lady is your mum, Haley, and I don't fight her," Draco said, pressing his nose against hers. _

_ Haley let out a string of giggles. "Yes you do!" she persisted. "You say mean things. She called you a bad name. You told me it was a bad name!" _

_ Draco sighed. "We don't fight," he persisted, his voice getting higher and more child-like. _

_ "Yes you do!" Haley continued._

_ "No we don't!" _

_ "Yes you do!"_

_ "No we don't!" _

_ "Yes. You. Doooo!" Haley sang and tilted her head back like a howling dog. Draco erupted into laughter and put his head back too, howling along with her._

_ He brought her in for a hug and attacked her with a big kiss on her cheek, then another on her forehead. "I'm going to get you!" he exclaimed. "You crazy kid!" Haley giggled as Draco kissed and tickled her. She squirmed around until Draco let her go. He peeked over her bedsheets at her and raised a playful eyebrow. "Will you go to bed for me, Bug?" _

_ Haley gave a thoughtful look. "Only if you lay with me!" she said with a high, childish voice. With a fake-sigh, Draco smiled and crawled under the covers. _

_ "Move over," he said and the girl obeyed. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. "Go to sleep now, Bug."_

_§_

_"Draco! Draco! Get up! Get up, we're being attacked!" Astoria's voice rang into his ear. It was panicked, but not loud. In fact, it was rather quiet. However, her voice rang with immediate fear. "Please, please get up!" _

_ It took about three seconds and a giant explosion sound to pop Draco out from his sleep. He jumped from the soft bed and hesitantly looked down at his sleeping daughter. "Someone's _attacking_?" he asked in a worried voice._

_ Astoria nodded, her eyes swarmed with tears. "Draco, Draco, please, please...Do something. Their – " She was interrupted by the echo of a spell going off. A flash of yellow light eradicated the windows of Haley's bedroom. The force of the blast caused the pair to lose their balance and fall to the floor. On instinct, however, Draco wrapped his arms around his wife and fell, covering her body from the shards of glass that rained down on his. _

_ Draco sucked in air through his teeth as he tried to subside his pain. He had a few pieces of glass sticking out of his back that he was trying to ignore, but it was proved to be unsuccessful. He groaned and dropped his head to the nook of Astoria's with a sigh._

_ "Are you hurt?" she asked, groping at patches of his hair with her hands. Draco gave another moan in response and rolled over onto his side, careful not to touch the fragments so not to push them in further. He scooted over and rolled back on his stomach so Astoria could see his injuries. "Oh, Merlin!" she exclaimed, and uncertainly brushed the tip of one. Her fingertip began to bleed. "It's scarily sharp, Draco, hold on, let me just...," she trailed off as her fingers slid across the smoother part. She bit her lip and wrapped her hand around the peak of the out-stuck blade. She drew blood from her lip as the glass cut through her palm. In one quick motion, she pulled, and the bloody shard was free. _

_ "You bitch!" he yelled, scraping the wooden floor with his stubby nails. "Holy...MERLIN!" He pounded the floor with his fist and winced as Astoria took hold of another piece. As she tightened her grip, the shard deepened into his skin. He bit is tongue until it began to bleed. "God-damn it! Those-those little shits!" he let out a relieved moan when the second glass of four was gone. _

_ "Dae!" Haley screamed in a scared, confused voice. "Dae, what's going on? Where are you?" she asked, feeling around for the empty space where her father was supposed to be. _

_ "Shit!" he whispered under his breath. "Astoria, get Haley and take her some place safe. Now," he commanded._

_ "But the glass –!" _

_ "Forget the glass! Get the bloody child out of here at once!" he screamed at his wife. "Now! You will regret it if she dies! GET HALEY AND RUN!" Draco struggled to stand but found sharp pains going down his left leg. "NOW ASTORIA, NOW!" _

_ Flustered, Astoria stood and shook her hands crazily. It was a nervous habit she had. Looking down at Haley however, she knew she couldn't be nervous. She had a child to take care of, a being that was half of her. This was her job. _

_ Hands down, Astoria reached over and pulled out the fragment of glass that stuck out of Draco's leg. "Astoria Malfoy, I swear to you, get Haley –" _

_ "I'm going!" Astoria called down at his cringing side and plucked her daughter out of her bed. In a split second decision, she grabbed one of the white sheets and wrapped Haley in it like a tortilla. She held her daughter's head to her chest. "Close your eyes," she whispered to Haley. "Go to sleep in my arms, please." It almost felt weird, begging a two-year old. _

_ Bending over, Astoria freed one hand and plucked the final glass. "Where are we meeting?" she whispered quickly as she heard thundering footsteps echo beneath them. _

_ Draco glanced up with a weak smile. "The park," he said, his voice filled with nostalgia. "At the bench. The one you used to sit at when we'd take Haley." In the blink of an eye, Draco voice changed from soft to military general. "Now GO! GO! Go, Astoria! Out the window and run! Now!" _

_ As if his words controlled her feet, Astoria jumped over her husband and crawled through the broken window. She placed her feet on the small roof on the side of the house and attempted to hook the soles of her feet to the shingles. "Damn it," she muttered as the roof cut her feet. Luckily, the blood, mixed with the pouring rain, caused some sort of traction. Astoria sobbed and held onto Haley tighter. Her bloody hand left a stained, red hand-print on the otherwise white sheet. _

_ "I can't, I can't..." Astoria whispered as she looked down at the bare ground beneath her. "I really can't...I'm so sorry Draco," she apologised although he could never hear her. "I wasn't a Gryffindor, I'm not brave nor courageous...I can't..." But as she said this, something inside of Astoria told her she could make the jump. The sound of a spell cracking nearby seemed to be the bait. With a slick of her tongue along her bleeding lip, Astoria bent her knees and jumped, holding Haley close to her chest._

_ Like a cat, Astoria landed on her feet, which wasn't a good idea. She fell to her knees and wanted to crumple right there and just die. The vibrating pain was too much, but she stood up and ran. She ran until she could not even feel her legs if she tried. She constantly whispered to Haley, assuring her everything was already and everything would be alright, although she was blubbering as she said it. _

_ The park was a mere jog away, even though it felt like hours while Astoria frightfully ran. When she finally reached the bench, Astoria shoved Haley next to her. She placed the sheet back on her daughter and tried to cover up the blood stains. "Listen to me, Haley," Astoria whispered in a shaky voice. "I want you to look at me – look at me, and promise me that you will listen to everything me or Daddy says, okay? No matter how strange. You will listen and obey us. Okay?"_

_ Haley looked like she wanted to cry along with her mum. She was confused and utterly upset. "Okay," she answered and pulled her knees up to her chest. "Where's Dae?" she asked, wiping her tired eyes. "I miss him." _

_ Astoria pulled Haley into her lap then, and kissed her head. "I miss him too. Don't worry. He'll be here. Go to sleep. He'll be here when you wake up. I promise." Small, shy Haley fell asleep in her mother's arms, desperately wishing for her father._

_ As Astoria gently caressed Haley's head until she was asleep, she found herself looking up at the stars and memorising their patterns. She closed her eyes for a moment before snapping them open; she needed to be on the lookout at all times. _

_ With a deep breath, she tried something she'd never tried before. Looking to the sky, Astoria, who had never been a very religious person, began to pray. "I'm not even sure if there is a god, but if there is, please, _please _protect my daughter. I know I've been a shitty mother to her, but she deserves a good life. She's so brilliant and beautiful. I don't understand how I've come to deserve her, but all I know is she needs a life. She cannot die at two. And if anything happens to either Draco or me, please provide for her a happy, successful life. Because I do not want her to die tonight." She wasn't sure if you should say 'Amen' afterwards, so she just kind of left it there, hanging by the word 'tonight'. And it hurt to think that this could be the last 'tonight' either of them had._

_**· · ·**_

___Draco hurried to the only place he knew would be safe; the study. It had broad, large windows that could easily be broken and he could jump out of. But he had to defend his home. He had to greet whoever was here._

_ And that scared the living shit out of him._

_ With a grip on his wand, Draco sneaked out of Haley's room and darted to the study. It had a desk he could easily have hidden under, but he didn't plan on taking the easy way out. He stood behind the door like an imbecile, with wand ready at his side._

_ He was prepared for anything. Dementors and Azkaban escapees, old classmates, even...even his father. But when the door creaked open and in swarmed a trail of blank cloaks, he was stunned and sunk further into the door-crack. _

_ The cloaks trailed behind their holders and swayed against the dusty floor. It was obvious no one had been in here in a while. Just then, Draco realised his mistake. The men (or women) dressed in the dark, cynical cloaks looked beneath their feet to see rather Draco's sized footprints embezzled in the floor. They followed the trail to lead to shivering Draco in the corner. Yes, shivering. Draco Malfoy was entirely scared as the mask of a Death Eater stared straight at him. Then he realised...they were here for him. _

_ Draco gulped and thought of a spell in his head. He lifted his wand of hawthorn and pointed it directly at the Death Eater standing a few feet before him. His victim seemed to be the leader. He thought hard about his spell and twisted his wrist._

_ With a single flick of the wrist, the Death Eater dodged the Confundus Charm, completely obliterating it. Draco thought again, pointed his wand at the Death Eater, then at the last second, changed his target to a wizard to the far right of the leader. The Death Eater took the _Filipendo_ hard, and knocked into the back wall._

_ "Think you can play games?" laughed the leader Death Eater as he inched closer to Draco. He was shaking, but trying not to show his fear. "Because I can play games, too. You can't win and live, Draco. Pick one or the other." He pulled out his own wand for threat, but didn't cast any spells. He merely dodged the curses and jinxes Draco shot at him. _

_ "_Locomotor Mortis_!" he yelled, pointing it to another sidekick Death Eater. Finally, the leader raised his wand and pointed it at Draco rather slow like. Silently, he cast a _Crucio _and Draco withered to the ground in pain. He screamed to the top of his lungs, making them feel raw and full of liquid. He felt like he could throw up all of his internal organs. He flopped on the ground like a fish out of water or a child having a seizure. The pain enveloped his skin, his mind, his limbs, making him feel completely and utterly helpless. And then suddenly, the pain stopped._

_ "I like to play with my meat before I kill it," the leader chuckled evilly. The leader swaggered over to Draco and kicked him hard at the shoulder. But before he could say another word or kick him again, Draco had retrieved his wand from next to him. He clenched his bleeding knuckles around it and closed his eyes. He was not going down without a fight, but he was not going to go down._

_ "_Nox_," he whispered, hardly audible. The _Lumos Maxima_ that had been keeping the room lit went out, and the windows filled the study with natural darkness. Speedily, Draco raced out of the room. He banged against the wall, whooped, ran halfway down the stairs then back up, before quietly sneaking through Haley's room and out of the window. _

_ He heard the idiotic Death Eaters pass his daughter's room and travel down the stairs. Draco suppressed a laugh at their stupidity. Instead, he army-crawled against the roof to a corner and leapt, falling into a patch of bushes._

_ But that's all he needed. Happily unspotted by the Death Eaters, Draco sprinted towards the direction of the park. He knew that hopefully, Haley and Astoria would be waiting for him. As his pace quickened and then slowed as he saw the bench, he pretended to not notice the lukewarm blood trickling down his left leg. _

_ "Astoria," he whispered, relieved when he saw his wife at the bench with a bundle of white. "Oh Astoria."_

_ "Draco!" she exclaimed and embraced him in a hug. Out of desperation, she assumed, Draco pressed his lips against hers repeatedly. Then he looked down at their small daughter._

_ "She's sleeping," he noted, and brushed his hand along her hairline. "She's actually sleeping through this hell," he whispered and kissed his pure, innocent daughter's head._

_ That was the last time he kissed the head of his pure, innocent daughter before he saw the Death Eaters swoop in around the park bench. _

_§_

_ The moment Draco woke up, he knew he was not outside any more. The night had been warm to match his blood. Now, he was sitting in a chair, somewhere cold. He could feel breath against his neck and feared to open his eyes. He had a million thoughts going through his head on what he would see, but none were as horrible as what he really saw. _

_ "Wake up, Draco, the rest of your family is," said a cold, tingling voice right behind his left ear. It wasn't the leader, but could've been his right hand man. Scared of what the Death Eater might do if he didn't comply, Draco shot his eyes open._

_ The moment he did it, he regretted it. The Death Eater swooped over him and magically glued his eyes open to stare straight ahead through a glass window. He tried to move his limbs, but found they were locked in a seated position in a metal chair. He opened his mouth to speak, but found he had been silenced. _

_ But what made it worse was the show before him. Astoria was laying with her back to the ground, her eyes stinging with tears as three Death Eaters around her bellowed out simultaneously, "_CRUCIO_!" Immediately, her terrorised screams rang out and echoed in the building they were in. It was grey and damp, like the outside. Draco desperately wished he were blind and deaf as his wife's pleading and painful screams hurdled around. Her body was shaking completely, her legs bouncing and head shaking back and forth. Her high-pitched cries felt as if there were going to burst through his eardrums before they stopped._

_ Astoria looked as relieved as Draco felt when he saw her not withering in pain. But he was not relieved for long. From experience, he knew that the Death Eaters were far from finished yet. But they pulled Astoria away by her hair and brought in Haley instead. _

_ "NO! NO! NOT HALEY! NOT HALEY!" Draco yelled, although he could not be heard. The leader, who had a slightly different mask from the rest of them, turned to face the glass. His eyes turned upwards as if mocking Draco. _

_ And then it started. All of the Death Eaters, minus one guarding Astoria and the other guarding Draco, swarmed around Haley. At first, Draco didn't see what they were doing, but then they created a semi-circle and he saw his daughter, strapped to a tilted board, naked. For once, the worst thing that crossed his mind was exactly what happened._

_ One by one, the Death Eaters, starting with the leader, removed their gloves. Then, with lanky, thin fingers, the leader began to probe at Haley's privates. She let out a squeal of surprise and she squirmed, trying to move her bottom away from the dirty, unfriendly hand. _

_ The leader shot out his other hand and slapped Haley across her face. It left a slight red hand-print on her right cheek. She began to cry gradually as the pain increased through her face. The tears streamed down her face in sobs. Her chest heaved as she cried. _

_ Draco shook his head and tried to blink his eyes away, but he couldn't. It was too much to see his daughter, his only daughter, being molested, but he had no choice. The leader added two more fingers and tore at her innocence. _

_ Haley let out a blood-curdling scream then, and it sent chills down Draco's back. He saw Astoria crying in the corner, reaching out as if she could touch Haley. The Death Eater watching her, with long blonde hair, bent down and punched her in the lower back. Then he kicked her with an iron foot in her gut, causing Astoria to kneel over and clutch her stomach. _

_ "HALEY!" Draco silently screamed again as two other Death Eaters joined in sexually abusing her. One, with small, almost almond shaped fingertips, held Haley's arms up and down against the board. He squeezed her small arms tighter, and Draco noticed bruises beginning to form from the pressure. "HALEY!" he called again, and this time he began to cry._

_ This was all his fault. All of his fault from being a coward when he was sixteen. All his fault for brining Haley into the world. All his fault. And he didn't understand why the Death Eaters tortured his family instead of him, when it was all his fault. All of it. _

_ When he cringed as the screams continued, he realised he was wrong. They were not torturing his family as payback. They were torturing his family to torture him for payback. Draco continued to cry through this realisation, blaming himself more and more as more grubby fingers invaded Haley's privacy. And the most disturbing factor of the scene, was that Haley and Astoria shared something in common: they had the same scream. _

_ Even with all the restraints, Draco's muscles were still tense as if he were trying to stand and run to Haley. So when all the curses were lifted, his body sprang forward and ran into the wall. "Shit," he muttered. He hardly had time to recuperate when the Death Eater was lifting him up and out of the small sort of viewing box he was in._

_ And in one second, Draco was no longer the audience, but the player. _

_ "Draco, Draco, good to see you up and around," the leader hissed as he was forced over to the group. He looked away from his bleeding, crying daughter and instead stared into the eye-slits of the leader's mask. "Come, join our party," he said in an airy voice. The other Death Eaters stepped aside as to make a path for Draco to Haley. "I know how much you _love_ your daughter. Show her how much." _

_ Draco shook his head and closed his eyes, taking a step back. "I'd never touch her that way," he whispered. _

_ "No?" he heard the leader say in a higher voice. "Well then, guess we'll just have to change your mind, huh? _Imperio_!" he whispered and Draco's eyes shot open. He had no choice as the leader forced his heavy feet to shuffle towards Haley._

_ Her eyes were full of fear as Draco's hand extended. "Dae?" she squeaked, her voice barely audible after her screaming trauma. "DADDY!" Draco's fingers moved eagerly and in the back of his mind, he was cursing the leader. He had forgotten about the Imperious Curse and mentally beat himself up for ever cursing Madam Rosmerta. _

_ Draco prepared himself for Haley to scream and hate him forever, but before he could even brush her skin, a loud, ringing scream erupted. "STOP! STOP! DON'T TOUCH HER ANY MORE! TOUCH ME! TOUCH ME!" Astoria yelled at the top of her lungs. She began to cry ugly, fat tears as all of the Death Eaters turned to look at her. _

_ Astoria tore at her shirt and pulled it over her head. "TOUCH ME!" she screamed again, motioning for the Death Eaters to come to her. "JUST LEAVE HER BE!" Her cries engulfed her and she fell to the ground with a moan. "Please."_

_ Like a flock of vultures, the Death Eaters swarmed around Astoria. The leader seemed to have forgotten Draco, who could now move freely. They all seemed distracted on their new prey. Draco, on impulse, went to remove Haley's chains. The cuffs around her wrists were magically tighten and her swollen, beaten arms tightened the restraint. _

_ "Fuck," Draco mumbled under his breath, not even caring if Haley heard. He looked left and right, and not seeing anything, he sped to the box. Unfortunately, the wooden door was locked, and breaking it open would cause too much of a distraction. He racked his brain for anything, when he remembered something. Back when he was...a Death Eater...he learned the tricks and the trade. And Death Eaters always did things the same so they didn't have to think much. Bending down, he rolled his hand beneath the crack of the door. He wanted to yell his joy when he gripped his wand, and hurried back over to Haley. _

_ "Be very silent, Bug," he whispered to her. "Don't be scared, please, don't be scared." He silently unbuckled the steel cuffs and picked his daughter up by her underarms. Nervous to touch her too much, Draco gripped her around the abdomen and ran towards a grey door near the corner. He pushed against the door slightly and slipped out, completely oblivious of his wife's cries._

_ The door led to a slim, grey, echoing corridor. Draco held Haley close to his chest while still holding his wand, and sprinted down the corridor. It seemed to last forever, and the numerous shades of grey bricks haunted Draco's eyes. Finally, he reached a closet. _

_ He searched around the closet for something Haley could lay on. He saw a few Death Eater cloaks and he held his breath for a moment. "It's okay, Bug," he whispered into his daughter's ear as he set her down. He pulled off one of the cloaks and wrapped her in it. _

_ "I hurt," she whined. "My peepee hurts,"she cried, crossing her legs and placing her hands in front of her privates. "It hurts..."_

_ "I know," Draco mumbled, trying not to cry or show emotion. "It'll all be okay, Bug, I promise you. Okay? It'll be okay."_

_ Haley gave a small nod, but she still cried. "Okay." Draco sighed and grabbed a few more cloaks to make somewhat of a bed for her. "Lay down," he whispered, and held her back as she dropped to the soft, black bed. Draco covered her with a few more cloaks. His voice began to shake as he talked to Haley whose wide, blue eyes watched him. "Haley, remember that game you and I used to play when mummy was coming into the room? '_Pretend Like You're Sleeping_'? I want you to play that. Okay?" In a fake, playful voice he used to use, Draco smiled. "Bug! Mum's coming! Pretend like you're sleeping!" _

_ Haley immediately put her head down and pretended to be asleep. Draco looked down at his daughter and began to cry, not knowing if this would be the last time he ever saw her. "Now," he whispered, "if someone comes in that isn't me, I want you to pretend like you're sleeping okay? And be very, very, very quiet," he whispered. Haley nodded sleepily like she understood, and put her head back down._

_ Draco leant forward and pressed his lips to Haley's forehead. He kept it there for a moment and let a few tears slip down to her hair. "I love you," he whispered and stood up, hesitantly leaving his two-year old, recently molested child alone. _

_ And it was back to the battlefield. With wand in hand, Draco raced back to the main room. He was suddenly very aware of Astoria's high-pitched, painful screams. It made his ears bleed even worse as he entered the room. He closed his eyes immediately._

_ Astoria was laying on back, her head facing Draco. She was completely naked and her chest heaved, her breasts bouncing as she arched her back. The leader of the Death Eaters was on top of her, pushing his pelvis closer then further from hers. Another Death Eater had a knife and had made deep gashes along her abdomen and chest, smothered his hand in it, and had trailed the blood along her breasts and face. The blood was drying, but some continued to spill out of her cuts. Other Death Eaters had cut her lips with their teeth and kicked her body and head. One even pulled at her beautiful brown hair when she did not comply to the leader's requests and slowly cut her by the roots. Sometimes he got so close that it cut her skin with it. And a few stragglers, with their long, dirty nails, would claw at her skin and thighs, pushing her legs open further for their leader to continue. With blood dripping everywhere and other natural liquids, it was a frightful sight._

_ When Draco opened his eyes to see a better picture of his wife getting raped, Astoria moved her head enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes were filled with tears and some relief as the leader exited her. The relief only lasted a moment before the Death Eater that had watched Draco decided it was his turn to give Astoria a go, and her face grimaced in hatred and pain once more. A single tear fell and hit the cold, musty ground._

_ And that was it. Draco couldn't take it any more, and he charged across the small room. With wand exposed, he pointed it near the leader of the Death Eaters, who had joined in groping Astoria's breasts. "_Stupefy_!" he exclaimed, catching the leader off-guard. The leader tumbled back, unconscious. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" he yelled to the man raping his wife. He raced forward and knocked the newly petrified rapist back and onto the ground._

_ "Astoria!" he exclaimed and went to grab his wife. The other Death Eaters seemed to cower back without their leader. Vaguely, Draco heard "_Rennervate_" and hardly had time to look for the newly regenerated leader when Astoria was magically confiscated from his arms. He looked to see the leader with his wand out, holding Astoria in the air. _

_ "This is you wife," he said, not a question. "Beautiful specimen. Wonderful body, too," he said, trailing a hand down Astoria's bloody and spoiled body. "What a lovely swan," he hissed. "Bye-bye." In one swift flick of his wrist, Astoria's body folded over itself and crashed through the glass windows of the torture house. He relaxed his wand and let Astoria fall._

_ Draco hurried to the broken window with his wand still out. "ASTORIA!" he called, completely and utterly disgusted by the scene. He watched her fall eleven stories. She hit the grass of the house with a thud, landing on the only non-grey item in miles. Her eyes popped open and her chest heaved, but she was alive. _

_ "Pity," said the leader, seeing Astoria's, perhaps paralysed, but otherwise alive body. "Well, I know what I want to do," he smiled and pointed his wand back at Draco. "_Crucio_," he said without hesitation. The word rolled off his tongue like it meant nothing to say it. _

_ Draco's legs gave in as they folded and he flailed to the ground. He rolled over and over as the pain erupted from abdomen to his legs to his arms and then his head. He could physically feel his brain cells dying as he was suffocated by the immense heat and hurt. And just as quickly as it started, it stopped. A body fell beside him, twisting and withering. Astoria had been magically levitated back into the torture room and he watched her turn and twist like a rabid animal. And just like that, he was mimicking her._

_ "Ah, husband and wife together. My favourite," the leader laughed as the torture continued. When the curse was finally lifted, Astoria was piled on again and now numerous Death Eaters were attempting to penetrate her at once, ripping her and making her bleed. _

_ It took Draco a minute to get to his feet before he truly realised what was going on. When he did, he gripped his wand, making his knuckles go white, and _Stupified _a few other Death Eaters. But before long, he was magically strapped to the ground and was being stabbed at with tips of wands and knives. _

_ He let out aggravated, low scream as the first layer of skin on his right arm was cut off, making him bleed everywhere. Every once in a while, he'd be hit with a _Crucio_ or _Imperio _and forced to touch his wife. And a thought dawned on him. "Astoria," he whispered to her while a taller Death Eater stuck him with a knife in the leg. "They aren't going to let us both go. One of us has to stay as a distraction and grab Haley. Then the other can find a way out of their grips and run." Thankfully, the Death Eaters didn't seem to hear Draco when Astoria screamed. She nodded in approval of his plan, unable to speak words without vomiting, which she had already done. "I'm going to stay," he decided._

_ Astoria shook her head and pointed to herself. She breathed out a long, long held breath that had been held longer than they'd been in the house. "H-Haley listens to you, she loves you. Y-you go. B-besides, there are at least three of them that haven't raped me yet." She gave a smile as if to make a joke about something not even remotely funny. "T-they won't let me go."_

_ "No! I'm not letting you stay here! I'm not! I – " _

_ "Go now. Go," Astoria whispered as one of the Death Eaters noticed he had a wand. "Now! Go n – "_

_ Draco didn't have to be told twice. He brought his left fist up to the man who had him pinned down and bleeding, and knocked his head. The unconsciousness left him free of restraints, and cast an _Immobulus _to a few Death Eaters trying to claw at him. He raced out of the room, just barely missing the green flash of a Killing Curse go by. _

_ He reached the closet just as quick as he found it and burst the door open. Like rehearsed, Haley lay her head down as if she were sleeping – or better, dead. "It's me, Bug," Draco whispered, but Haley didn't move. She had fallen asleep. Draco thanked his lucky stars as he picked her up. He magically stuck her to his side and grabbed an extra large Death Eater cloak. He put it over himself and covered Haley's sleeping head. It was a little bit more extra weight, but he could make it work. _

_ Draco had the right mind to run back into that room and kill the leader and whoever else he needed to. He desperately hoped nothing horrible had happened to Astoria. _

_ Blending partly with the dark grey wall as he sneaked in, Draco readied his wand as he watched the party. No longer being raped, but tortured, Astoria was unrecognisable. Her skin had been peeled off so intricately that she didn't look human from the waist up, and blood covered her hands and face. She hiccuped and blood bubbled up and out of her mouth. "_A-avada Kedavra_," he stuttered, pointing towards the leader. The curse merely stunned him. Draco's hand shook as he aimed again. "_Crucio_!" he said much louder and got the right hand man. He withered and fell to the ground, clutching his chest._

_ Draco, just feet away from his dying, bloody wife, had an epiphany. He was no better than these Death Eaters. He was acting no better. Astoria's blue eyes begged him to stop and he did. He began to _Stupefy _numerous Death Eaters. However, one hit him with a Knockback Jinx and he fell back, clutching Haley to his chest to make sure she was okay. As he looked back up, the Death Eaters seemed to evaporate into the air and disappear. It was not Apparating. No. Something entirely different. One Death Eater brought the leader back to consciousness before disappearing himself._

_ "Well, well," said the leader. "It seems we have another affair to attend to, Draco. See you soon. _Avada Kedavra_!" he bellowed, pointing his sickly evil wand at Astoria. Her body hardly moved. Her bloody chest rose up and she screamed her last scream as the life was sucked out of her. Then she collapsed, her face going white. And the leader disappeared._

_ Draco ran to Astoria's side and his footsteps echoed in the suddenly silent room. He bent down at Astoria's side and cried ugly tears. He wrapped his arms around her blood drenched body and pulled her close. He wanted to do something but there was nothing to do. The once blue eyes of Astoria Malfoy looked straight through Draco's sobbing face. _

§

"...And then I Apparated Haley, Astoria's body, and myself to the only place I knew could be safe: my mother's house. It took me a few days to finally spill all the details to my mum, but even then, I spent a lot of time vomiting while story-telling," he finished. "Oh, and we burned Astoria's body to fully rid of all the disgusting scars on her, and buried the ashes in the back garden at the Manor," he added. "The end."

Hermione was stunned. She gasped many times throughout the time of Draco's reflect. "Is that the real story?" she asked.

Draco cocked an eyebrow and laughed. "No," he said sarcastically. "Of course it's not the real fucking story! Actually, Haley doesn't have a vagina from a birth defect and I murdered Astoria because I fucking hated her! OF COURSE THAT'S THE REAL FUCKING STORY, WHY THE HELL WOULD I MAKE SOMETHING THAT HORRIBLE UP?"

"I-I don't know..." Hermione stuttered. "It just seemed too twisted to be real."

"Well, it is," said Draco monotonously. "To recap, just because I know you love twisted stories," he said sarcastically, "is my daughter was molested, my wife was raped, thrown out of a window, raped some more and then killed after virtually being destroyed. Fun, huh?"

Hermione crossed her arms and looked up at Draco who had gotten dressed while he told the story. "You don't have to be so snooty about it. It was just a question. Not even a question, an observation." Things were quiet after a while. "Have you taken Haley to a child's psychologist?"

Draco snorted and bit his lips. "You sound like my mother," he noted. "And no, I don't want to force her to talk about that experience to someone outside our family. She talked to my mum and she talked to me and no one else. I don't want anyone else to know what happened that night." He paused. "Well, um, except for you."

"Who else knows?" she asked. "Who knows the whole story?"

Draco thought for a moment and let a tired grin paint his cheeks. "Two other people," he answered quietly. Finally, he met her eye contact. "And one of them is dead." He let a cocky smirk parade his lips and Hermione thought that a cigarette between his lips would create a perfect picture. "Any more questions, Granger?" he asked, looking over to Hermione.

"Just one." She pursed her lips and contemplated how she should ask this. It seemed like an eternity of contemplation but only lasted a second. "Did you love your wife?"

Draco's smile fell, and his answer was ironic. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, I did love Astoria. Did," he emphasised the past tense.

"Really?" Hermione said, and although she should have been sad, she couldn't help but smile as Draco gave in.

"Really."

"DAE!" called Haley. "Daddy! Come here! I didn't have a nightmare tonight! I didn't, Dae!" Draco smiled and his memories of the past seemed to have lifted.

He hurried out of the room, leaving Hermione sitting on the bed, naked, with the sheet wrapped around her. She vaguely heard a distant, "I'm so happy for you, Bug," and the sound of lips against a forehead.

**A/N: LITERALLY THE LONGEST CHAPTER EVER. 10,000 + words. Probably the longest one I will ever make, I mean seriously, I'm on page 19 of the document. I usually only make it to 9. :) If this chapter made you uncomfortable in any way, then I succeeded, because that was the point. It definitely disturbs me when I reread it. **

**So...A lot of questions were answered in this chapter. I had my friend read the flashback and she wasn't too confused, but if you still aren't crystal clear on some things, just tell me :)**

**I also LOVE LOVE LOVE your feedback :) Just a few Reviews I liked from last week were from krazy-meow, fanatic05 (you made me laugh!), ANEwrites, and voldemortsn0se. I love all my Reviews and Reviewers, and maybe I'll mention yours next time!**

**As always, Review, Favourite and Follow me and/or my story :) **

**And a reminder, my tumblr is lovelikeawallflower :) and if you ask, I will follow back!**

**-Eagles**

**P.S. Funfact: While writing the more intense scenes of this chapter, I was listening to "Sail" by AWOLNATION because I remember my absolute love for it when my sister's boyfriend showed me the jumping cat video to that song :P **


	22. Do I Even Want To Move?

**A/N: HEY! New chapter you guys! This A/N will be quick!**

**Chapter title comes from the song, "Go" by Civil Wars. Great song :)**

Ginny watched Hermione from the kitchen, scrutinising each move she made. Hermione had seemed to become a sloth overnight. Her movements were slow and hesitant, like she was contemplating the whole world while grabbing a tea bag. That mankind in itself could cease to exist and she still could not figure out if she wanted lemon or raspberry tea before just grabbing both. Sometimes, Ginny would see the Hermione-sloth in her natural habitat, cooped up in her room with a different book than she had been reading three hours ago. She only stood to go to the bathroom or organise something with the dance studio, and that was it. That'd be it, for a while at least.

It started about a month ago and had continued. It made Ginny nervous, seeing one of her best friends like that. Hermione had hardly spoken to her besides a weekly check up on Harry, which was, "Have you heard anything yet?" Ginny would answer "No," and Hermione would stomp back into her room, angry with...whatever she was angry about.

But it was getting on Ginny's nerves. She was being too emotionally distant as if she just lost the one person she loved the most.

As Ginny cleaned the dishes, she decided it was time. She couldn't take one more day of tea-drinking, excessive book-reading (like that was new, but it was getting a bit more excessive than usual), hermit Hermione. With a deep breath, she cleared her throat, shuffled to the sofa, and placed her hands on the back, staring at the brown of Hermione's head. "Hermione?" she asked.

After a moment of silence and a turned page, Hermione uttered a, "Hm?" Ginny didn't respond. "What?" Hermione asked again, turning to finally face her friend. A finger held between the two halves of her book and she impatiently drummed her other hand on the cover.

Ginny gaped at Hermione in awe. She'd never seen her friend act like this before. Most of the time, Hermione was eager to talk and hang out with her, but now she acted as if her books were more important than her friendships. Ginny bit her lip, thinking of just walking away, and then did it.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows before turning back to the book entitled, "Psychological and Emotional Problems of Young Children and How To Deal With Them." There was an entire section, over 200 pages, that was devoted to only sexual abuse. She had read the 200 plus pages over and over again for the last month, always changing the cover so Ginny wouldn't wonder why "page-turner Hermione" was stuck on one book.

The story came as an aftershock to Hermione. When Draco finished telling her what happened with Astoria and Haley, she just wanted to know more. She felt like that couldn't possibly be the end of the story. What had happened with the Death Eaters? Why didn't they come back? Are the Death Eaters out now the same ones? If so, are they headed after Draco again?

Some of these questions that her twisted mind made up caused her to feel sick. She thought she actually was going to vomit once, when she first read about the psychological trauma that could be inflicted onto a young girl like Haley.

Now that she had time to sit and think about the whole ordeal, she felt...dirty. She felt disgusted. She wished she never even found out. Innocence truly was bliss. In this situation, at least. Hermione would be lying if she said she hadn't dreamt some nightmares the first few nights. And she had to admit that a couple times while she was in the shower, hot, pipe water wasn't the only thing streaming down her face.

Haley, beautiful, little, blonde haired Haley, was molested. The only thing that kept her truly innocent and without any influence of the world, was torn. Ripped apart. Completely obliterated. Nobody, especially a _two-year old_, should ever be touched without asking for it like that. No one.

Hermione cursed her brain. One reason she loved reading was because she could imagine things so clearly and so precisely without ever living it. And so, when Draco told her that story, the entire picture – the molestation, the rape, Astoria plummeting out of the window, being beaten, the Cruciatus being flown about like confetti, the painful look on Astoria's face when she was murdered, Draco escaping with Haley – was all cemented into her brain like a perfect film of completely horrifying truth.

Straining her neck, Hermione glanced at the kitchenette's clock to see it was almost three. She stood with a hurry, causing Ginny to look over with the sudden movement. "Where are you going?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"I nearly forget...promised myself...her appointment...against his wish..." she muttered, trying to find her teaching clothes in her room. She rushed out, her hair halfway up in a bun. "God-dammit," she muttered. "Ginny, have you seen my dance clothes or my spares?" she asked.

Ginny turned and whipped a dishcloth against her hands. "No, I haven't," she said in a rather cold voice. "But why don't you check up your arse because you've been acting like one?" The moment the words fell out of her mouth, Ginny felt remorse. She bit her lip and looked away. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "that was out of hand."

Hermione didn't seem to hear the apology. Her hands, which previously were toying with her frizzy hair, dropped to her thighs. "What's going on?" she asked, seemingly forgetting about the time.

The fiery redhead looked back at Hermione. "What's _going on _with _you_? Seriously Hermione, you've been completely desolate and closed off lately. You won't talk to me, you'll hardly even acknowledge me! Your head's just been stuck in books more often than usual and it's frustrating!" Ginny began to cry; slow, fat tears raided down her cheeks. "And I d-don't have Harry. H-he could die any day and you happily brought me in, a-and now I feel like you d-don't even care that I'm here, or th-that I'm hurting!"

Hermione felt her heart drop to her stomach out of guilt. She knew she'd been distant, but Ginny and her had been friends for so long, she was hoping this moment would never come. But, moreover, being friends with her for so long, Hermione knew this moment would come. Ginny was not one to keep quiet. "I-I know," she said softly, trying to maintain a strong voice that only came out in a crack. "And it was...it was so selfish of me. I just...I don't know how to tell you what's wrong..."

"Just tell me!" Ginny exclaimed. "There's no need to sugar-coat anything, Hermione! I am standing here, crying, in front of you! No matter what you say right now, I am _not _going to judge you on it! Even if you killed someone, broke the law, or are sick, nothing you say – and I mean _nothing_ – is going to make me change the way I think about you! Ever!"

Hermione began to tear up as well. Ginny spoke with such compassion that rattled her voice ironically. It truly made her feel like she could let things out on the table. Her dishevelled state sat down at the kitchenette table and sighed. "You won't judge?" she asked, the question coming out like a raspy secret.

"N-not for a single moment," Ginny answered, sitting beside her. She thought about taking her hand, but decided against it, knowing it probably wasn't the best idea. "And I won't think twice."

The brunette rapped her fingers along the table and tried to urge the secret she's been holding out. Her eyes felt like they were on fire, and the time burned itself into the back of her mind. She bit her tongue, and the iron taste told her she had drawn blood. She raised her head to see her best friend with rapt attention. "I-" she started and looked away sheepishly. "I've been...I've been sleeping with someone," she admitted.

Ginny didn't seem fazed. "Okay," she sniffed, giving her head a side nod. "So, you're sleeping with someone. What's the big deal? You've slept with guys before." She paused for a moment. "It _is _a guy, right?"

Hermione let a small smile peak through her mouth. "Yes, of course."

"Oh," Ginny breathed. "Not that it'd've mattered anyway," she smiled. "D-do you want to go on?"

With a small nod, Hermione clenched her fists. "It's...well, it's D-" she stopped herself, knowing Ginny wasn't big with his first name. "It's Malfoy, okay? I've been sleeping with Draco Malfoy."

She looked down with a beet red face, afraid to meet Ginny's gaze. She silently wished she were deaf so she didn't have to hear her reply or her scream of horror. But the only thing that came was a voice that sounded like a whisper. "Since when?" she asked. Hermione didn't answer right away. "Since when?" Ginny repeated, this time it sounded a bit stronger.

"Your wedding," she said immediately. "H-he went home with me. Pansy invited him, we got to talking and to drinking and I guess it was just a drunk mistake then, but...it kind of evolved from there." She paused for a moment and added a bit. "But he's changed! I swear to you, he's different now! He's gone through so much!"

There was a pregnant period of silence and Hermione scooted her chair out and stood. "Never mind," she grumbled. As she turned, however, Ginny grabbed her arm and sat her back down.

"Hold on," she started. "There was no alcohol at the wedding," she explained slowly. "It couldn't have been a drunken mistake because there is no possible way that you _were_ drunk."

Hermione felt like her stomach was clenching and folding up inside of her. "T-that can't be right," she panicked, shaking her head back and forth. "There is no way that I would have slept with Malfoy if I were sober! I mean, maybe now, but not then, certainly...not then..." she trailed off, suddenly realising the great memory she still had. She could remember almost everything about that night: Draco's sexual comment about her underwear, the way he pleased her before letting himself release, the way he pushed her onto the bed and crawled on top of her like a hungry animal. It all rang back in her mind as if it were yesterday. "Oh, Merlin," she gasped, realising Ginny was right. "Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin!"

Ginny's eyes grew. "Wait – what does this mean? I mean, this is...not what I was expecting but...I'm not going to say anything. I promised not to. But," she started, "I _am _shocked it's Malfoy. But now that I know you thought you were drunk...I can see why it all happened. But...why did you continue?" Hermione was silent. "Hold on...you don't _like _him do you?"

Hermione had a late reaction. It took a few seconds for her to realise what Ginny meant, but when she did, she shook her head repeatedly. "No," she said, her voice going higher than usual. "No, definitely not. Draco is my...is an acquaintance. He is my acquaintance and that is all." But as she said it, Hermione could feel the words like acid on her tongue. It didn't feel right. Maybe they _were_ more than acquaintances. Maybe like...friends? It seemed absurd, but they were sleeping together...They couldn't be...lovers...could they? Friends...lovers...they seemed to tip the scale.

She stood up abruptly, finally feeling the burning red travelling in her cheeks, down her neck, up her ears and to her fingertips. "I really have to go," she explained and hurried out the door without even a proper goodbye.

The door slammed shut and Ginny stood and kicked her chair back rather forcefully, and it ran into the oven. She groaned and pushed it back to the table, not bothering to watch the corner. Draco Malfoy? Did Hermione even know what she was doing?

Ginny took out her wand and clenched it around her fingers. While she had been crying over her loss of Harry, Hermione had been out sleeping with her husband's enemy. Well, rival, more. And she didn't care if he had "changed" or whatnot. Malfoy was Malfoy, and it just seemed to impossible to work. Something was going to give.

§

"Are you going to talk to me today, Haley?" asked the child psychologist. "I'd love for you to tell me what your dreams are about."

Hermione swallowed hard and looked around the small room. It was lit by a wide window that streamed in natural light from the sun, and bounced off the glasses that slid down the psychologist's nose every once and a while. The Muggle-born witch had gone rather full-Muggle on the room, and included many posters, including the classic "hang in there, baby" cat on a branch poster, and a sunset with the bold words, "tomorrow's a brighter day" at the bottom. Some new age music played in the background on some radio station, and once in a while, two people named Ben and Shelby would pop in and give a quote from Gandhi or famous authors, wishing everyone a "super-dy super-ly sweet day!"

She gave Haley's small hand a helpful squeeze. She re-situated them of the sofa and pulled Haley close to her in hug. It wasn't a curved sofa, just a normal sofa with small, green pillows, but it was a sofa nonetheless. "It's okay, Haley. You can tell her anything. I am right here." She gave her a flashing smile back to prove she was being honest.

Haley nodded but crawled onto Hermione's lap. She lay on her side and hugged Hermione's arm like a baby would grip an adult finger. "These-these boys took their hands and touched me," she whispered vaguely.

The psychologist, whose name was Deirdre to Hermione and Deedee to Haley, clicked her pen and began to scribble down strings of words. Her pen hardly left the paper as she looked up expectantly. She reminded Hermione of herself at Hogwarts taking notes her first year. That thought brought her back to her conversation with Ginny fifteen minutes ago and it made her stomach churn. "Where did these boys, or was it men, touch you?" she asked. "Was it men like your daddy or boys?" Deirdre asked again, waiting for an answer.

Haley was silent for a few moment and shook against Hermione's body. She knew she was having flashbacks, and it killed Hermione to feel the pain of molestation erupt back into Haley as a memory. It hurt her heart and her head.

"Men," Haley answered finally, and the word vibrated her throat against Hermione's arm. It was a word, a normal word in most context, but now it felt like the worst curse word in all of history. That word could make Hermione cast the Killing Curse without a flinch at whoever says it, or it could make her fall to the ground in convulsions.

"And where did they touch you? Can you point to it?" Deirdre asked, leaning forward a bit more. She looked too eager which slightly disturbed Hermione. Did she just have this career so she could learn the deep dark secrets of people? Did she enjoy hearing about people's person problems?

Haley gave a quiet nod and with one finger, pointed between her legs. "My peepee," she said, a bit louder than Hermione would've liked. "They touched my peepee, and it hurt for a long time."

Deirdre cleared her throat. On the first visit, Hermione had told her the entire story, so none of this information was new. But it was one thing hearing it from a second-hand person, and another hearing it from the source. Especially when that source is a five-year old girl. "And did you like it when these men touched your...peepee?"

Haley sat up immediately and finally looked at Deirdre. "No!" she exclaimed and shook her head over and over again. "No, no, no, no. They were yucky, and it made my peepee feel like fire."

"Does your peepee ever feel like fire any more?" Deirdre asked again, trying to find if molestation continued. Hermione was completely offended. As if Draco or anyone would have molested Haley even further than that was a horrible thing to consider.

"Oh, no," Haley said, and shook her head. "Never never ever." She smiled. "My daddy is nice and makes sure that never happens 'gain." The blonde settled back into Hermione's lap, and she wrapped her arms around her small frame. Before, Haley had been quivering, but noticeably after she mentioned Draco, her scared state vanished.

Deirdre finished writing some notes on her clipboard before pushing her glasses back up her nose. She stood up and outstretched a hand. "Well, I think this has been a productive session, Miss Granger, how about you?"

Hermione stood up with Haley still glued to her hip. "I thought it went fine, Deirdre," she said, and shook the psychologists hand as best as she could while holding Haley. "I'll get the payment to you by Thursday at the latest."

"Oh, no rush," Deirdre persisted, letting her hand go. "Even if you bring it with you next week is fine by me." The two women engaged in small chat for a moment while Haley tugged on Hermione's shirt.

"Mummy," she whispered. "Mummy, c'mon, let's go! Mummy!"

This caught Deirdre's attention. "Mummy? I had no idea Mr Malfoy and you wed, Miss Granger, or shall I say Mrs Malfoy? Pity there's no ring..." she said, straining to catch a glance at Hermione's wedding ring-less finger.

"Oh, no," Hermione shook her head, strangely paralleling Haley from minutes earlier. "I'm not – I mean, she's isn't my – I'm not her – " she stuttered, trying to find the right words.

"I am so sorry," Deirdre apologised. "I didn't mean to jump to conclusions. But, may I ask why she calls you mummy?"

Hermione blushed and pulled Haley up to sit on her hip like she would do with a toddler. She had to keep her steady and in one place. "Because of...the death of her mother...Haley hasn't had much maternal love, and she has clung to me. She chose to call me mummy."

As they left, Hermione say Deirdre scrawling down notes again, no doubt about how unhealthy it was to have a young girl call someone her mum when she wasn't. But she didn't care if it made Haley happy.

She Apparated with Haley to the dance studio and kissed her head as she set her down. "Go get dressed, Haley," she said, tapping her back slightly. Right after Haley turned five, she asked Hermione to teach her how to get dressed for dance on her own, and she agreed. The only reason Haley was still picked up by the former Gryffindor was because of familiarity. But it wouldn't continue to next year for a number of reasons. And those number of reasons made Hermione's stomach tense up when she saw her students dance with smiles on their faces.

Thankfully, Hermione found her dance clothes in her office and changed quickly. Lacey knocked on her door while she finished choreographing Haley's dance for the spring recital. "Knock knock, hey you," the blonde American smiled and walked in. "I was just going through the costumes and came across the one for Haley," she said and pulled out a picture of a model girl, about the size of Haley, wearing a Little Red Riding Hood cape and dress. "So cute! Really, how did you think of this 'Literature' theme?"

Hermione laughed at her best friend's face which currently looked like an anime character's. "Just from reading. I've spent some time reading some children's books lately," – while reading them to Haley at night-time – "and other literature," – while sitting next to Draco, which then was succeeded by a visit to the bedroom – "and I thought it'd be a rather fun idea. Plus," she added, pointing to the photo, "the costumes _are_ adorable."

Lacey laughed and put the photo back in her binder. "So...you've been acting a bit...cheery lately," she wiggled her eyebrow. "Is Hermione Granger getting some?" she joked. Hermione's eyes slightly grew and she looked away with a blush growing through her face. "I'm only joking, girl, you can stop your blushing."

"Oh, you are?" Hermione laughed, trying to make it sound genuine. "I was getting worried for a moment you found out about my saucy affairs with the hot post man," she joked back.

"The post man, huh?" Lacey smiled, and clicked her tongue. "He _is_ pretty hot. I'll have to beat you on that one. Because I am getting me some hot soccer player meat!"

"Football," Hermione corrected, "and is he Muggle?" she asked. Lacey nodded. "Does he know you're a witch?" she asked.

"Yes," Lacey answered. "His little sister is a witch so he knows all about the wizarding world. _And_," she added with emphasise, "he's good with kids too. Not that I'm saying I'm ready for them," she cleared, "but he's no Isaac. That freak was _scared_ of babies! Scared. Of. Babies."

Hermione laughed again as Lacey continued to talk about the time where they went to Hermione's cousin's baby shower and there was at least seven babies there and she had to follow Isaac around as he ran to different ends of the room to avoid the tiny children. It was a rather humorous day and she let out another giggle at the memory.

"Have you visited your parents lately?" Lacey asked, sitting on top of Hermione's desk. The brunette shot her a death glare and she stood up, allowing Hermione to fix a paper she had sat on top of.

Hermione continuing fixing her desk until Lacey cleared her throat to get her attention. "What?" she asked, and Lacey repeated the question. "Oh. No. I didn't think I could handle it with being so busy right now. I was considering going on Sunday, but I don't think I could go alone. Could you go with me?" she asked hopefully.

"Sunday?" Lacey thought for a moment. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but Sunday is my grandfather's birthday. My parents flew him to England just for this. He's turning 99 and I really can't miss it. Otherwise I would definitely go. Maybe check with Ginny?" she suggested.

Hermione twiddled her thumbs nervously. "I don't want to expose her to that right now. What with Harry and all and –" she cut herself off before she exposed anything about earlier today. "And if I can't handle this on my own, she won't be able to handle it with me."

Lacey nodded her understanding. "Sorry I couldn't've been more help, but I'll be there next time, okay?" she asked.

Hermione nodded and smiled a half-happy smile. "Okay." Lacey left after that, tending to some business measures to plan out her Easter holiday which was a mere week away. This left Hermione to continue choreographing for dances before class started.

There was something strange going on with Haley during class that day. She was a bit too quiet. Much more quieter than normal. Even Evangeline was more talkative than Haley, and that was really saying something.

"Okay, and put your foot behind your other foot and bow, and again with the other foot," Hermione instructed a bow like she did after their class every week. She clapped when each girl did it successfully. "Very good. Now, line up to get your stamps, then you can leave! Oh! And don't forget this pink paper!" She held up a pink newsletter. "Give it to your mum or dad and they'll tell you when you have practises for the recital."

The girls lined up with their papers and hands on their heads. Like usual, Hermione stamped each girl's hand, and they bowed and said 'thank you'. It was the polite thing to do. However, when Haley, who was last in line came up, she didn't bow or thank Hermione, but just hurried out of the door to the telly room. Puzzled, she followed the young girl's trails, knowing she'd be late to teach her next class. "Haley?" she asked, reaching the girl who sat on the zebra rug. "What happened back there? Why didn't you bow?"

Haley looked up at Hermione with a scowl. "I am mad at you," she huffed and crossed her arms. "You made me go to the lady again and this time talk. I did not want to talk. You made me talk," she brought her knees up to her chest and set her chin on her knees with a pout. "So I'm mad."

Hermione frowned and sat beside Haley on her knees. "I'm sorry I made you mad. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" she asked hopefully. She watched the young girl's face contort as she thought.

"Be my mummy," she answered after a moment. Her smile widened and she opened her arms up wide. Hermione laughed and wrapped her in a hug.

"I already act like your mummy," she whispered and squeezed her tight. The young girl squirmed in her arms and Hermione set her down on her feet. "Why do you want me to be your mummy?"

"Because I love you Miss Hermione!" Haley exclaimed up jumped happily. "Can you be my mummy, please?" she pouted her lips in a pleading look. Hermione looked up at the girl's wide blue eyes that reminded her of her mother's and sighed.

"Let me think about it, but there's a good chance I'll say yes," she whispered the answer like a secret. Haley squealed happily and wrapped her arms around Hermione's neck for that was all she could reach. Hermione felt tears well in the back of her eyes as she hugged the young Malfoy, but had no idea why.

§

Draco opened his drowsy eyes to find Granger's nose brushing against his. They were intimately close right now, and he squeezed his hand to find it at her waist. He grinned and his lips brushed against Hermione's. They were as close as they could be without engaging in sex. And somehow, he thought he liked this better.

Granger looked strangely funny while sleeping. She didn't look like the pretty girls in Muggle films as they slept with angel like skin and their mouths slightly agape with wet, plump lips. Instead, her hands were high above her head as if she had spent the entire night scratching the headboard. Her lips, he realised, her curled back and her teeth were biting into her bottom lip as if she were thinking. Her eyes darted back and forth beneath her eyelids which was rather distracting. One of her legs was wrapped around Draco's waist and the other's knee was pressing into his chest. He thought it must be uncomfortable, but Granger seemed to find it satisfactory. It was weird, and her positioning was rather awkward, but Draco felt like he could stay in this position forever and be satisfied.

Suddenly he felt like someone had dropped lead on his stomach. It finally occurred to Draco that they couldn't keep up this escapade forever. Somehow it was going to end. He could try and hide it from himself, but somehow, everything ends. And with their...special relationship...he didn't know how it was going to happen. Normally relationships ended one of three ways: break-up, divorce or death. Since they weren't married, it would have to be death or break-up, even though they technically weren't seeing each other. However, the thought of not seeing Granger lying in his bed with his nose merely centimetres away one day killed him. This just felt so normal now, and he didn't think he wanted it to stop, not for a while at least.

Draco thought that perhaps the sex he had been missing out on brought these thoughts to his head, but if that were true, he would have thoughts of that prostitute swarming through his head, but he didn't. Recently, his main priorities had changed from Haley and his mother to Haley, his mother and Granger. And the reason being was lying in front of him.

Out of habit, Draco leant forward and brushed his lips along Granger's cheekbones and her nose. Her mouth relaxed from its thoughtful look, and he was able to kiss her lips lightly. He nipped gently at her upper lip, slowly moving his tongue to trail a slow, wet trail along her lower lip until Hermione opened her mouth to him. Draco placed a soft hand on her cheek as their kissing became rapid and pleasant. However, their breath seemed to steady after a moment until their kisses slowed and the smacks of lips against lips were the only noises louder than their inhales.

Finally, Draco bit down on Hermione's lip a hair and moved away, leaving her lips slightly plumper than before. He smirked and watched as her eyes gradually opened from slits. Her wide, brown eyes followed the lines of his lips and then his nose. They reached his hair, and Granger's hands flounced the platinum strands. "You're hair's getting rather long," she noted with a raspy voice since she just awoke.

Draco tightened the grip on her waist and brought her closer. He raised his eyebrow sexually and gave a Malfoy-smirk. "I could say the same about you," he joked.

It took Hermione a moment to get the second meaning, but when she did, her face blushed vermilion and she swatted at his head. "You know I didn't mean it like that," she laughed, continuing to play with his hair. "Wait, were you serious?" she asked, suddenly becoming self-conscious. Draco laughed and shook his head and Hermione calmed down, her face still red. "Do you have scissors anywhere?" she pondered out loud.

"Are you going to cut my hair?" Draco asked worriedly, and reached for his wavy locks of blond.

"Only trim it!" Hermione explained, trying to coax him into the idea. "I promise you you won't even see a difference," she whispered, twisting a strand around her fingers. "Now where are the scissors?" she asked again.

Draco groaned but didn't go on further. "Second drawer to your left," he muttered.

Hermione grinned and reached behind her to the bedside desk. She opened the drawer and gripped the red scissors tightly. With one hand, she gripped his hair and pulled up until a few centimetres appeared over her fingers, and snipped. It fell back down to Draco's forehead, and Hermione smiled with satisfaction before moving on to the next group of hairs.

After five minutes of Hermione clipping his hair, and Draco facing her chest wrapped in sheets, he cleared his throat and spoke something he had been thinking about lately. "Granger," he started, getting a "Hm?" from her in response. "I've told you the story of my family and you know all about the Blacks, but...I know nothing about your family."

"Are you curious?" Hermione asked, slightly surprised. Her parents were Muggles, and Draco was a pure-blood. Most pure-bloods had no interest in Muggles like her parents. Although, before, Draco hadn't been interested in Muggle-borns, but now he was sleeping with one.

"Very," Draco answered, trying to meet her eyes. "Will you please tell me about them? It's only fair," he said, giving a wide grin.

He thought he saw a glint of water in her eyes that quickly fled away. "Um," Hermione started, "It's a little difficult to um, talk about," she coughed. "It's easier to show," she explained vaguely. "I'm visiting them for the first time in a few months on Sunday. It's easiest to go with someone. You can come if you like," she said. She finished cutting his hair and set the scissors aside.

"Yes," Draco answered immediately and smiled at her brown eyes, "please."

§

Hermione jumped nervously from one foot to the other as she hovered at the door. "Are you sure I shouldn't Transfigure my hair a different colour, or go by a different name, like John or Will?" Draco asked as he watched her hand reach for the knocker.

"Trust me," she said with a sniff, "you won't need to. You'll see," she explained and knocked upon the door. After a moment of muffled rustling, the door opened to reveal a man with light red hair that was balding. "Hi Dad," Hermione said with a smile and stepped into the house. It was quaint and clean, with colours such as light brown, light pink and cream raided the house, like it was painted with Neapolitan ice cream. Multiple pictures lined the buffets and walls throughout the foyer and the sitting room.

"Dad?" the man, Mr Granger, said with what Draco would categorise as a small chuckle. "Last time you were here, five years ago, you called me Mr Pizza man."

Hermione slipped out of her boots and curled her toes into the floor, the fabric of her fuzzy socks created static against the tan carpet. She breathed in a deep breath that made it look like she hadn't been home in a long time. "It was five _months_ ago, Dad," she corrected, "and I only called you Mr Pizza man because you made the most delicious home-made pizza, remember?"

Mr Granger shook his head but he shrugged. "So I'm dad, right?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a thoughtful look. "Not Mr Pizza man?"

Granger laughed and hugged her father. "Yes, you're dad. You're my daddy." Mr Granger smiled and hugged his daughter tightly. "Where's Mum?" she asked as she pulled away. "In her room?" she asked, and her father nodded.

"Who's this man?" Mr Granger asked, pointing to Draco. "Have I met him before?" he asked, looking at Draco's nervous state. His hands sat comfortably in his pocket, playing with his hawthorn wand. He reached up and fixed his tie, ignoring the scratching feeling coming from his scrubs underneath his shirt.

"No, Daddy, you haven't met him, remember? His name is Draco Malfoy, and he is my...," she looked over at Draco slightly, trailing off her words. "My, err, friend," she decided finally. "He is my friend and I didn't want to come alone today. I thought it'd be nice if you met one of my friends."

Mr Granger scrutinised Draco for a moment as if he knew him from a past life, and hated him. He let his gaze fall eventually and led Draco to the sitting room. He offered him tea politely, and the wizard declined with the same amount of politeness. "Where did Gra-Hermione go?" Draco asked, noticing her random absence.

"Probably to say hello to her mother," Mr Granger answered as he poured himself a bit of tea in a silver cup. "What did you say your name was again? Derek something?" he asked curiously. "Or was it Dean?"

"Draco," corrected the name-holder. "Draco Malfoy." Somehow, the words seemed foreign on his tongue and he realised he hadn't introduced himself to anyone new since Evangeline's mother, Ruth. He'd be around the same people for so long, maybe it was best that things stayed that way.

"Strange name, Darwin," Mr Granger went on, and Draco didn't find a reason to correct himself. "But I suppose some people are that way." He finished his cup of tea and set it on the saucer. "Now, what did you say your name was again?"

With a puzzled look, Draco stood and furrowed her eyebrows, his eyes darting from the teacup to Mr Granger. "I'm going to find Hermione," he excused himself and stood up to find her. He didn't look long, and pushed open the last door on the left a crack. His mouth gaped open as he saw the sight.

"...I'm so sorry I've been gone lately," Hermione whispered, tears falling down her face as she gripped her mother's small hand. "It's just difficult for me to see you like this and Dad the way he is,"she cried. "I promise I'll be home more often, I promise. I need to get in a few visits before September, but I'll be here."

Hermione's mother, Mrs Granger, had a small, brittle body that hardly moved on a soft, hospital-like bed. A cannula was placed beneath her nose that led to an oxygen tank. An IV stuck out of her arm and Draco could see the needle was bruising her skin. There was no hair left on her head, making it look like she had a giant brain. "It's okay, darling," she spoke in a hoarse voice. "It's really been fine here. Truly. Your father and I are doing fine. Visit whenever you need to, it's okay!" she persisted, patting Hermione's hand. "The doctors said that the main tumour has gone down, but a few smaller ones have shown up. They say it'll be okay," she whispered and Hermione continued to cry.

Draco didn't know why she turned around, but Granger did and met his gaze. "You!" she screamed and ran at him, closing the door behind her. Shee pushed him against the wall and practically growled in his face. "What the hell are you thinking, watching me like that?" The tears still streamed down her face but she ignored them. "What?"

"I didn't know!" he exclaimed. "I never would've watched you if I knew." He pushed her off him gently, and turned away. "Why did I have to come with you? What's wrong with your parents?" he asked.

Hermione groaned and threw her head into her hands. There was no hiding it any more. "Fine. Now that you've seen it, I'll tell you." She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy. "My father has dementia and my mother has Stage III Lung cancer, okay? I don't visit them often because it is hard for me to see them in such pain..." she trailed off as the platoon of tears erupted from deep in her throat and fell down her cheeks in rapid motion. "I'm sorry," she whispered and turned around, running down the rather short hall into a room Draco could only guess was her bedroom.

He contemplated going after her, and finally settled with yes. However, he took his time going down the hall, scraping by slowly, rubbing his socks against the carpet. He let the cries of Granger slow down to a few whimpers before he stepped into the room silently, like a mouse. Hermione didn't even look up as he walked in, but he could tell that she knew he was there. If it were possible, it seemed like her ears perked up at the sound of his throat being cleared. Her glossy red eyes met his grey ones, and she looked away, ashamed.

Draco stepped forward in front of Hermione, and kept his eyes on the top of her head for a short period of time. She didn't move for a moment, so he looked past her and to her bedroom. It was nicer than he imagined. Not that he thought she lived in a dump or anything, just when he was younger, he always imagined Muggle-borns living in one-room houses with cots as beds. But Granger's room was nice and clean, mostly because she didn't live there any more. There were dozens of glossy photographs lining the walls and her dresser, and Draco finally let it click. There were so many pictures to help remind her father who everyone was. It was sweet, and Draco had an inkling that Hermione put them all up.

Her bed was neatly made and flat besides the creases around her bottom where she sat. It was a kind pink colour and along with the mahogany board and cream walls, her room reminded Draco of the delicious tricoloured ice-cream again. He glanced back at Granger and thought that the colours fit her rather well. The chocolate like her hair and eyes, cream like her skin, and pink like her lips.

Draco didn't know what compelled him to do so, but he slowly dropped to his knees in front of the bed. The soft fabric of his trousers brushed against the carpet as he settled to the floor. He watched Granger's eyes shift their colour as she acknowledged him. With much slowness, Draco moved his hands from the sides of his thighs and up to Granger. He didn't touch her before wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close.

She didn't respond at first, but after a moment, Hermione placed her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in the nook of his neck. Her lips brushed his skin before contracting them into her mouth. She tensed up slightly as Draco's hands moved to her waist, but she soon relaxed. They hugged in silence for a long time, and she didn't know why, but she thought she could feel his breath along her ear, whispering something incoherent. She liked compassionate Draco, and it fit him good.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered after a moment. "About – about your parents being...the way they are? I would've listened," he promised.

"Same reason you didn't tell me about Astoria," Hermione answered back, her voice vibrating along his neck like the plucked string of a guitar. Draco furrowed his eyebrows in confusion until she continued. "It hurts too much to talk about it."

They stayed together, holding each other in their arms in an embrace of empathy. Draco for Hermione's parents, and Hermione for Draco's past.

**A/N: NEVER AGAIN WILL I TAKE THIS LONG TO UPDATE, I SWEAR TO YOU.**

**So sorry. I had horrible writer's block for this chapter...and yeah. I also needed to recuperate from last chapter and cry over AVPSY. But thank you so much if you stayed around to read this chapter. I love you all for reading my fanfiction, and trust me when I say there will be more in the future :) **

**I don't have much to say, just I love you all. I would tell you all my favourite Reviewers from last chapter, but I LOVED EVERYONES. So thank you all for Reviewing. And for beautifly92, it was just a joke involving the fact Haley 'couldn't' take off her underwear. :)**

**Please Review, Favourite and Follow. I will be on Easter Holiday next week, so it may be over a week until next chapter. Bye, lovelies, I love you and I love to hear from you.**

**Tumblr: lovelikeawallflower**

**-Eagles**


	23. Broken Trust

**A/N: Hey guys! So, I'm still on vacation and this chapter wasn't supposed to come until next Sunday, but I have wi-fi at a McDonald's so I thought I'd post it! WARNING: CHAPTER CONTAINS LOTS OF CAPS AND SWEARING. Don't say I didn't warn you ;) **

**Oh! And chapter title comes from the song Broken Trust by Brenda Lee. Enjoy :)**

The door creaked slightly as Hermione hurried out of her flat. She raced down the stairs; she was running late to pick Haley up. It wasn't because of Ginny today, no; she had moved out yesterday and hadn't said a word about the current situation since the talk. And Hermione was definitely grateful. After the visit with her parents a few weeks ago, she couldn't deal with any more drama.

Although the recital was coming along smoothly, she greatly dreaded when it would come. She knew it would be filled with lots of tears and hugs. It made her stomach tightened when she thought about all the people leaving...and all the people being left. It was unfair, yet she had known it would come. She had a sneaky suspicion. But it still came to her as a big shock. An excited, happy, joyous shock, but still a shock.

And September would be a game-changer.

Hermione tried to let the thoughts fall away, but as she knocked on Malfoy's door, she couldn't help but feel like she wanted to be sick, even though she knew it was just her cramps. She couldn't tell him. Not until June at least, if ever. Maybe he just wouldn't notice when September came. Maybe it wouldn't be obvious. But she knew it would be. They were too involved in each other's lives for Malfoy not to notice if something changed. He'd ask questions, she'd give answers. She imagined herself not crying, but knew that she probably would. She didn't know where their relationship stood, but knew that no matter what, she was going to go through this alone, with_out_ Malfoy.

Hermione was late picking up Haley because she had been writing the best possible way to tell her parents. They'd be happy for her, she knew, but still, she wanted everything to be perfect when they found out. It was something she had dreamed about for a long time, but never in her life did she ever think all this remorse would come over her, especially when her parents were so sick. She didn't know how they'd fair without her visiting so often. Sure, she had been missing from their lives for five months, but that was the longest it had ever gone. From now until September, she planned to visit them every two weeks lest something happen. Lest something happen to her...or _them_.

But that she didn't want to think about since she could hear Malfoy approaching the door. She straightened her back, and cleared her throat, trying to seem like there wasn't an armada of thoughts fuzzing her brain. She plastered on the best fake grin she could muster, but let it fall as soon as Malfoy opened the door.

His face made a look she hadn't seen since Hogwarts. His nose was scrunched in disgust, not in the cute way in which Hermione took notice in, but in a way that showed anger and resentment. His lips were pulled back and his teeth bared slightly, sort of like a wolf when it growled. His grey eyes, which usually showed joy and life, especially around Haley, were cold and lifeless, growing narrower and narrower. Hermione pretended not to notice Malfoy's fist, which was tightly clamped around the knob of the door. She swore that if his face – which was a bright, cherry colour – got any brighter, he'd start emitting heat, and the brass knob would melt between his knuckles.

One could say Malfoy was mad. Another, angry. But Hermione knew, judging by his straight back and craned neck which watched her like a hawk, he was infuriated. Enraged, fumed, miffed. And judging by the cowering Haley in the corner, Hermione knew exactly why.

"I'm sor – " she started, but Malfoy held up a finger to shush her.

"I do _not_ want any of your apologies, Granger," he seethed, talking through his white, slightly crooked teeth. Hermione ran her tongue over her own teeth and felt the small unevenness by her lower right canine. She thought for a moment about the fact that no one's mouth could possibly ever be perfect for their entire life because of accidents and age. But she hadn't had an accident with her mouth, and gave an inward shrug, thinking it just happened somehow. It took a good minute for her to remember Malfoy was staring her down. She silently cursed her brain and its tendency to ramble, before talking.

"Then what do you want?" Hermione asked, and was taken aback by the sound of fury building in her own voice. "Because I'm willing to apologise, but you don't want to hear what I have to – "

Hermione was cut off by Malfoy suddenly gripping her arm. He pulled, and flung her body into the cottage. She lost her balance for a moment, but Malfoy helped her keep it. She faltered in her steps, taking a few forward and back before finally pausing her movements. She could feel Malfoy's finger imprints on her arm, and knew it would leave a temporary red mark. She knew it wasn't purposeful, but if they were about to have a fight, she could possibly use it as word warfare.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, rubbing her sore arm after Malfoy let go of it. Her arm had gone red, and there were obvious white spots around it, almost as if she had gotten a bad sunburn and had covered parts on her skin with her fingers. Haley gave a jump as Hermione cursed, and she instantly felt regret. She hadn't wanted Haley to ever hear her angry, and there she was, flustered, and had already said a curse word.

"Explain," Malfoy growled, turning his body to the side so Haley could be seen better. He motioned to his daughter with one hand. "Explain why my daughter told me that 'Miss Deedee wants to know about my peepee,' and then laughed heartily because it rhymed?"

The moment became quiet as Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but could not find the right words. She heard Haley quietly snickering over the rhyme. Malfoy's face softened, and he told Haley that she needed to be quiet, and asked if she could not interrupt again, thank you very much. In a millisecond, he turned back to Granger with the same scowl he had been holding earlier.

"Well?" he asked. Again, Hermione could not find the right way to say what she expressed. Normally, words just rolled off her tongue easily, but today, she found herself at a loss for them. "Fine then, shall I guess?" Malfoy said, letting a playful smirk parade his lips. "Peepee...," he started, dissecting the sentence. "Well, obviously that would portray to the giant secret about my family I told you about a while back," he said, emphasising the importance of 'secret'. "Haley only calls people Miss or Mrs or Mr when they have some sort of a paying job or, are a parent, in which case she wouldn't say Deedee, but instead the last name...

"And if we're talking about a profession in which someone is told secrets, especially rather scarring secrets...," Malfoy glanced at Hermione with a rather school Malfoy-like gaze. He paused for a moment, and the look was gone. In place of his smirking, thoughtful look came back the angry one. He looked as if he wanted to explode. His chest was heaving, and his nostrils flared. Hermione waited for a giant scream, but when Malfoy spoke, it was soft. "Haley, go to your room please."

"But Daddy!" she exclaimed, tugging on his arm. "But Miss Hermione is here!"

"No buts," he butted in. "You're going to your room. You are not going to ballet today. Get in your pyjamas; we'll watch that doll film you like." Haley squealed from happiness, and hurried out of the entranceway without another thought. She didn't even say goodbye to Hermione, or complain about ballet. Perhaps she liked the film more.

Hermione didn't notice if Malfoy casted a _Muffliato _on the rest of the house, but he must've, because the moment he heard Haley's door slam (and he grimaced at the slam), he began to yell.

"WHAT WERE YOU FUCKING THINKING?" he screamed, throwing her back against the wall, trying to ignore the parallel from visiting Granger's parents. "DID I FUCKING GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO TAKE MY DAUGHTER TO A FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST? DID I? BECAUSE I DON'T THINK I DID! DIDN' T I TELL YOU I WAS AGAINST IT?" Hermione tried to ignore the splatters of saliva that were flicking themselves onto her face as Malfoy screamed. She vaguely recognised the scent of mint and bananas from his breath. It was a strange combination, but it smelt nice. "I DIDN'T WANT MY ONLY CHILD TO HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE TORMENT OF MEDICATION, OF BEING TOLD SHE COULD POSSIBLY BE DEPRESSED IN THE FUTURE, OF BEING BRAINWASHED INTO THINKING I'M NOT A GOOD PARENT! SO YEAH, GRANGER, THOSE ARE MY FEARS, OKAY? THOSE ARE MY FUCKING FEARS. I HAVE FEARS, I AM A HUMAN BEING, AND YOU – YOU, GRANGER – MADE THESE FEARS COME TO LIFE!"

Malfoy was definitely not going to stay silent now, but he had paused, perhaps to let her say something in retaliation. But Hermione was baffled. She didn't really know what to say, except – "Actually, I didn't take her to a psychiatrist," she corrected, and Malfoy gave her a look like he was waiting for more. "I took her to a psychologist." The man who held her against the wall groaned and rolled his eyes.

"What's the fucking difference?" he asked, more in a sarcastic way than from mere curiosity. "They're both NOT what I wanted to expose my daughter to!"

"The difference," Hermione jumped in quickly, "is that a psychiatrist usually prescribes medication to a client; psychologists don't," she said slowly, hoping Malfoy would see the big difference. "And in case it makes it better, all the psychologist does is let Haley talk about what happened and how she feels about it. Once, she gave Haley a crayon and some paper, and told Haley to draw something that makes her happy. Haley drew you. _You_, Malfoy. And so now, after every session, she looks at the picture so everything ends on a happy note. But you," she jabbed her finger at his chest, "you jumped to conclusions, saying she was being brainwashed!"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER, GRANGER!" he exclaimed, taking a step back so they both could finally breath again. He watched Granger wipe her face clean from his spit, and he didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse. "YOU STILL WENT AGAINST MY WISHES, WHAT I THOUGHT WAS BEST FOR _MY _DAUGHTER! NOT YOUR DAUGHTER, MINE." Malfoy was slightly out of breath now, and his voice was slowly losing sound, but he still stood strong, prepared to win the war. There was no going neutral this time. "YOU KNEW – YOU _KNEW _THAT I DIDN'T WANT TO EXPOSE HER TO THAT! IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT THE HELL HAPPENS THERE, I JUST DIDN'T WANT HALEY TO GO AT ALL! BUT NO! MISS NOSY GRANGER HAD TO GET IN THE WAY LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES, POKING THROUGH PEOPLE'S BUSINESS LIKE IT'S HER FAVOURITE BLOODY HOBBY!" All was silent for a moment, and then Malfoy began to chuckle. "Damn you," he muttered just loud enough to push Hermione's buttons.

"Malfoy, I did this for the good of Haley!" she yelled, although not as loudly. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling as if she needed to protect herself. Normally she felt safe in Malfoy's small little cottage, but now she felt scared and exposed. "You should see her at night the way I do! She still gets nightmares, although less frequently. But maybe since they're spread out, they're worse!" For once, Hermione felt vulnerable, and yet like she could conquer the world at the same time. "Maybe you've forgotten the moans she emits when she's having a dream-flashback! Or perhaps you've misremembered the way her body looks when she's rolling around and grasping at her bottom! This is more than just horrible nightmares – this is psychological damage, Malfoy! You can't leave psychological damage alone! It'll turn worse! Indeed, Haley could become depressed one day, or have horrible thoughts run through her head, or even attempt or commit suicide!"

As if extinguishing a flame, Malfoy clapped his hand over Granger's mouth which had been running a mile a minute. His face, although dropping a few shades, was still at a good, sunburn red colour. His breathing, however, had quickened, and his nostrils expanded and contracted as he breathed deep, fast breaths. "My daughter," he started, his voice low, like the mix between someone on the verge of tears and a dog's growl, "will never, _ever _conform to society, and kill herself. Don't you dare even _suggest _it. Because I will not allow it. My daughter will remain happy if its the last thing I do." Malfoy swallowed hard, and closed his eyes, trying to find the right words. "Because killing yourself is just as hard as trying to kill your headmaster," he muttered. "Trust me."

Hermione was dumbstruck. She had no idea what she could say. Did Malfoy just admit to her that he tried to...to kill himself? Did that just happen...? She couldn't think, she could hardly breathe as she felt a knot forming in her throat that felt like lead. "Y-you need to understand," she started, completely upset with herself for sounding so assailable. Her voice made it seem like she was on the verge of tears. "This is serious business. Just because you 'don't want' your daughter to get depressed, doesn't mean it isn't going to happen! Action needs to be made, and you were too slow, so I did it for you!"

"DID I FUCKING ASK YOU TO?" Malfoy screamed, and Hermione felt like putting her head in her hands. She thought that his screaming match was over, but it seemed like they were only in the middle. "DID. I. FUCKING. ASK. YOU. TO? NOT EVERYONE WANTS HELP FROM 'LITTLE MISS SAINT GRANGER', IS THAT SUCH A SHOCK TO YOU? GRANGER, THIS WAS THE ONE THING – THE ONE _FUCKING _THING – THAT I WAS ADAMENT ABOUT! AND IT WASN'T JUST TO YOU," he reminded. "MY OWN MOTHER WANTED HALEY AND MYSELF TO GO TO THERAPY, AND I TOLD HER NO! NO! NO! A FUCKING-TIMES NO! GOD-DAMMIT, GRANGER, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ONE BIT? I NEVER, _EVER_ WANTED YOU TO TAKE HALEY TO A THERAPIST – PYSCHOLOGIST OR OTHER! ESPECIALLY SINCE IT WAS _BEHIND MY BACK!_" That thought rang through Malfoy head, not lessening the fury, but instead, creating more.

"Behind my back," he said quietly as though it were a joke that he just understood after ten minutes. "Behind my back," he reiterated, a bit louder this time. "BEHIND MY BACK! DAMMIT, GRANGER, DON'T YOU SEE? DON'T YOU SEE HOW _ABSOLUTELY DISTRUSTFUL _THAT IS? HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I, BEHIND YOUR BACK, BEGAN TO TAKE HALEY TO A SECOND DANCE PLACE, HUH? OR, WHAT IF I TRIED TO HELP YOUR FATHER GAIN BACK HIS MEMORY WHEN YOU DON'T WANT ME TO ? BUT _I'D _THINK IT'D HELP HIM."

"That's ludicrous!" Hermione yelled, but not about the screaming. "You could never help my father gain back his memory! His memory is gone forever; it's a hopeless cause! It's going to get worse and worse, and there's nothing you or I could do about it!" She felt tears sting the back of her eyes at the thought of her parents, but she didn't dare cry.

"Exactly what I'm saying!" Malfoy yelled. "Look at you, you're already upset at the _thought_ of me doing something behind _your_ back. HOW DO YOU THINK _I _ FEEL WHEN YOU ALREADY WENT AND DID IT, YOU LITTLE SHIT!?" Hermione was silent. She couldn't think. She looked down at her feet, aggravated, but then felt her chin being jutted up. Malfoy held it in a tight grasp, so tight it felt like he was breaking it, and Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from crying. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, understand?" he asked. When she didn't respond, he held her chin firmer, and brought her face closer. "FUCKING LOOKAT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, GOD-DAMMIT!"

Hermione gave two quick nods, and let of a gasp of relief when he let her chin go. It wasn't until then when she looked back at her arm to see it was perfectly fine. And her chin, although still getting used to being free again, was not damaged in any way. Malfoy was not physically hurting her, and she mentally kicked herself for ever thinking that he would.

"WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?" Malfoy asked, his voice back into a deep growl as if he were about to explode.

Hermione felt the anger build inside her. Her eyes flickered up to Malfoy's, like a fire burning inside her mind. She clenched her fists at her sides, and grabbed at her trousers. "WHAT I HAVE TO SAY?" she yelled, and paused to give a look of shock at her volume. "WHAT THE HELL DOES IT MATTER WHAT _I _HAVE TO SAY? IT NEVER HAS IN THE PAST! I AM ONLY TRYING TO HELP YOUR DAUGHTER WHEN YOU AREN'T! SHE IS IN NEED OF SOME SERIOUS HELP! AND YOU AREN'T GETTING OFF YOUR LAZY ARSE TO GO AND HELP, SO I DECIDED TO TAKE INITITIVE AND – "

"HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF TRUST, GRANGER?" Malfoy yelled, and once again, he had baffled her, and got her rapt attention. "TRUST? HEARD OF IT? IT'S WHAT I PUT IN YOU. I TRUSTED YOU TO TAKE SWELL CARE OF MY DAUGHTER, BUT INSTEAD, YOU WENT BEHIND MY BACK – VERY UNTRUSTWORTY-LIKE – AND WENT AGAINST WHAT I WANTED! IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW GRANGER, I TRUSTED YOU!" He was silent after a moment. "I trusted you," he said quieter, and Hermione thought maybe he'd cry. "I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU! AND GRANGER, THAT MAY NOT SEEM LIKE A BIG DEAL, BUT I DON'T TRUST A LOT OF PEOPLE! IF I TRUST YOU, THEN YOU MUST BE PRETTY DAMN SPECIAL!" Malfoy stepped closer, fury alive in his eyes. Hermione took a step back, terribly afraid. The Malfoy heir's fist raised, coming closer to her face. It uncoiled its fingers, practically shaking with the need. But in the back of his mind, he could hear the familiar sound of skin slapping skin, along with his mother's cries and moans. He dropped his hand, cursed his Malfoy blood, then stepped back. "Leave," was the last word he uttered before wrenching the door open, and slamming it like an echoing crack of thunder.

Hermione rested her head against the wall, shaking and shivering. She didn't cry – she didn't think she could – but stood there. She heard the sounds of pots and pans being thrown, of Malfoy punching walls, and tossing chairs. Then the scene quieted, and she heard Malfoy's distant, kind voice talk with soft-hearted Haley, and the sound of a film playing in the background could be detected.

Slowly, as if unwinding herself, Hermione left the house, closing the screen door softly over the green one. She didn't know what to do or say, so she fled for the studio, hoping that the joy of dancing would help ease her heart.

§

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when the last student bowed, and said, "Thank you, Hermione" (she didn't mind if the older dancers didn't call her 'Miss'). Of course, she wanted to pack up right away and leave as fast as she could. It wasn't that she hated the studio – by all means no. It was just that the fight her and Malfoy had had drained her completely, and all she wanted was a nice cup of tea, and a warm bath.

Lacey had asked Hermione kindly if she could leave early to go on a date with her new Muggle boyfriend. Being the best friend that she is, Hermione said that it was completely fine, meaning she had to clean up everywhere, and close up shop. So, even though she wished for going home, she was stuck cleaning up around the studio until everything was spotless.

With no energy whatsoever, Hermione took to dusting the windows, and using furniture polish on the chairs and benches around the windows. It was tedious work, something she wasn't very fond of ever since she found out she was a witch. Of course, using magic _would_ be easier, she just didn't want to take the chance of some passing Muggle seeing.

Hermione didn't realise it until she was cleaning the final bench, but she was still shaking from the fight. Her hands were clammy, and her body shook as if recovering from vomiting. She gripped the side of the bench, and dropped her body down to sit. She wrapped one hand around her hurting stomach, and the other rested on her head, trying to soothe the headache.

She hadn't cried yet from the fight and she didn't think she would. That's all it was; a fight. But somehow, this fight seemed different than the others. It hadn't been resolved, no one kissed anyone from the passion of fury, and Malfoy had said a lot of things that had hurt her.

Finally standing up with what felt like an arrow through her stomach, Hermione finished cleaning, and gave a sigh of relief when she saw it was eleven. That meant right when she got home, she could sleep. She no longer cared about the tea and hot bath, she just wished to sleep. To sleep, and to forget about her horrible day with Malfoy.

It was hard to believe that the man who had spent twenty minutes completely enraged at her could also be the man she peacefully woke up to some mornings. The same man who gave her pleasure like she'd never felt before. The same man whose hair she cut, while being agonisingly close to his lips, so that if she just leant forward a touch – they'd kiss. The same man who, by just smiling at her, would cause goosebumps of arousal to appear, and cause her stomach to flip as that smile met her own in such an intimate embrace.

Her eyes were watering by the time she was fumbling for her keys in front of 28-19 F, her flat. She stuck the key in the lock and turned, walking into the flat with half-open eyes.

At the sight of double red hair, Hermione's eyes grew and she smiled genuinely for the first time since earlier that morning. "Ron, Gin-!" she started but paused. She shook her head over and over again, hoping it wasn't true. Their faces gave a similar one to Malfoy's before, and she felt like she could die right now and be truly happy.

Ron's face showed anger and severe disappointment. He looked ashamed of Hermione, and also as if he pitied her. Ginny's face was more guilty than anything, and like a light bulb, Hermione instantly knew why without anyone saying anything.

"Do you have any idea how I felt when my little sister told me about your little rendezvous with the enemy?" Ron asked, his voice chock full of anger, although he hadn't exploded just yet.

"My rendezvous?" Hermione exclaimed, completely insulted. "You have no idea what goes on between us! And he's not the enemy any more; he hardly ever was! You're just upset because he was a bully in school. That was _years _ago Ron! Get over it! I am!"

Ron looked away with a scoff. "And probably under him, too," he mumbled just loud enough for Hermione to vaguely catch it.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" she screamed, and her thundering voice echoed in the back of her mind. It sounded strange, like it wasn't her speaking. "You have _no idea _what my relationship with Malfoy is! Do _not _assume things when you don't know the truth, you ungrateful bastard!"

The older ginger's eyes widened at Hermione's rebuttal. "I know enough!" he shot back. "Ginny told me you two had been sleeping together ever since the wedding!" After a moment, he added, "_sober_."

"What does it matter to you if we are or aren't sleeping together, Ron?" Hermione asked, taking a step closer. She knew Ron or Ginny – perhaps only Ron – could never muster enough anger to upset her as much as Malfoy, so she wasn't scared to challenge him through body language. "We broke up ages ago. Why do you care?"

"I _care_," Ron emphasised, "because you're my friend Hermione. And you're Harry's friend, who is currently out fighting _Malfoy's_ kind." He spat the name as if hacking on Malfoy's face. "Malfoy is _still _the enemy. He always has been, always will. It doesn't matter what he's said to you, Hermione. Malfoy is bad. Malfoys are _always _bad."

Hermione balled her fists at her sides and stomped her foot. "Are you really going to let a childhood grudge interfere? Malfoy's different than the others. He's...changed. If you had any idea what he's gone through you would – "

"Oh yes, the horrors of Malfoy," Ron interjected. He scrunched his face all weird, and raised his voice to a very girlish sound. "I'm Malfoy. Oh bother, which Gryffindor shall I torment today? How exactly should I tell father about this broke nail? Oh no, this is a tremendous problem; to spend 1,000 Galleons or to not spend 1,000 Galleons?" Ron stopped his annoying voice. "Honestly, Hermione, how could you be so blind?"

"HOW COULD _I _BE BLIND?" Hermione screamed, giving an ironic laugh. "You're conning me, right? Ronald, listen to yourself! You just mockingly impersonated a boy you've had a grudge on since school. We are ADULTS now! We were all changed by the war, can't you accept that? Even Malfoy..."

"It doesn't matter!" Ron exclaimed, taking a large step away from Hermione. "Malfoys are Malfoys, they don't just 'change'. They are all gits, all of them! No matter what you say, Hermione, they're never going to change!"

Hermione's chest rose and fell with anger. Now she understood how Malfoy felt when someone went behind your back. She turned to Ginny, and her face softened slightly. "Why?" she asked, more in a desperate way than angry. "Why did you tell him?"

"I had to!" Ginny exclaimed immediately. "The fact that I hadn't talked about it with anyone was eating me alive! Also, you never told me I couldn't tell anyone, so I told Ron."

"Did you explain that Malfoy had changed? That he wasn't the same person any more?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Ginny bit her lip nervously. "W-well, n-no, but – " She paused for a moment, looking between Hermione and her older brother. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry Hermione, but I'm with Ron, I don't believe that Malfoy's different. I was rather angry when you told me and-and I just needed to spill out my anger. It really frustrated me; I thought you were my friend but there you were, sleeping with someone on the other side when we could be going into another war!"

"We aren't going into another war, Ginny," Hermione persisted. "If anything, it'll be a small battle. It won't be anything like last time," she whispered in a kind voice, seeing the fear in Ginny's eyes. Of course she didn't want it to become a war; last time there was a war, she lost a brother, and nearly lost her future husband. "And Malfoy is _not_ on the Dark side. He's neutral. If anything, maybe more Light."

Ron gasped a little too dramatically for Hermione's taste. "How can you even say that when you know what he's done?" he asked, the tone of his voice escalating. "HE'S A DEATH EATER! HE LET THE DEATH EATERS INTO THE SCHOOL, AND TRIED TO KILL DUMBLEDORE AND – "

"Exactly what I'm saying!" Hermione interjected. "He _tried _to kill Dumbledore, but he couldn't, see?" She stepped a bit closer until Ron was against the counter, and couldn't escape. "It wasn't that he was magically incapable of doing so, it was that he was emotionally and mentally unable! There was – still is – a sliver of good in him that ceased the idea of murdering his headmaster! Don't you get it, Ron? MALFOY WAS _TAUGHT _TO BE BAD! HE DIDN'T CHOOSE IT, IT WAS IMPLANTED INTO HIS LIFE WITHOUT HIM HAVING ANY SAY!" Hermione backed up at her sudden explosion of fury. She felt her ears and fingertips go red, and she placed her hands up against her cheeks, feeling them emanate heat. She couldn't remember how they got to a conversation on whether Malfoy was evil or not, but she knew that she didn't want it to continue.

Hermione cleared her throat, and shot her furious eyes towards Ginny, who seemed to have gone as silent as a mouse. Normally, she was fierce and bitchy (sometimes), but ever since Harry left, she had gone timid. The only time Ginny was truly Ginny since the flight of her husband was a few weeks ago, when Hermione had told her about Malfoy. "I know I didn't specify not to tell anyone," she started, her voice a bit calmer, "but it was a secret! If I had kept it from you for so long, would I want you to tell someone? No! It was something I trusted you to keep to yourself, Ginny, and you didn't...And-and now I'm upset." Hermione paused, feeling her voice begin to falter. She blinked back the tears that attempted to flood her eyes.

Ron scoffed as Hermione sat down to try and relax. "Bloody hell, you're kidding me, Hermione... You aren't going to pull this emotional shit, are you?" he laughed slightly. "I know you're better than this. Really, this is ridiculous!"

"I'm not joking around, Ronald!" she yelled, standing up suddenly. "IF YOU CAN'T ACCEPT MALFOY FOR WHO HE IS AND WHATEVER WE DO, YOU CAN GO-GO FUCK YOURSELF!" The air became quiet, and Hermione was sure she was going to be screamed at. However, Ron only gave a thoughtful look.

"You know, maybe I will," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, it's got to be better than _fucking Malfoy_."

"LEAVE!" Hermione pounced forward, and jabbed her finger into his chest. "GET YOUR SORRY ARSE OUT OF MY FLAT IMMEDIATELY, OR I SWEAR I'LL CAST _AVADA _ON YOU SO POWERFULLY YOU WILL DIE TWICE!" When Ron didn't move, Hermione reached for her pocket, mentally knowing that her wand wasn't there.

Ron's face scowled. "Disgusting. You probably just want me to leave so you can let out your pent up anger with fucking Malfoy. Really, Hermione, shouldn't you be more subtle about that kind of thing?"

"YOU SELFISH, IGNORANT, RESENTFUL GIT!" she shouted, grabbing at his collar. "I TOLD YOU TO GO! NOW! LEAVE!" She turned to one of her best friends. "YOU TOO, GINNY! EVERYONE OUT!"

"WHAT'S HAPPENED TO YOU, HERMIONE?" Ron screamed, causing her to step back. "First your little 'September decision', now Malfoy? Maybe it isn't Malfoy who's changed, it's you! What happened to the Hermione I knew?"

"SHE GREW UP!" Hermione exclaimed. "GET IT, WILL YOU, RONALD? I HAVE CHANGED BECAUSE THE HERMIONE YOU KNEW AND THE HERMIONE YOU LOVED LIVED SEVEN YEARS AGO!"

Ron, fuming with fury, stepped forward and gripped Hermione's wrist tightly. Much tighter than Malfoy would ever touch her. She grimaced as she smelt the alcohol that lingered on his breath. "Make her come back...," he whispered, just loud enough for Hermione to catch.

The next few seconds became a bit blurry. Hermione ripped her wrist out of Ron's grip as he make an attempt to kiss her. Ginny raced in, pulled her brother back, and slapped him upside the head. "I said, LEAVE!" Hermione screamed, feeling the tears fall down her face as she gripped her purpling wrist. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BLOODY FLAT, I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! EVER!"

As if the words controlled their bodies, Ginny and Ron left in a hurry, with Ginny scolding him on the way out. When the door slammed close (most likely done by Ron), Hermione felt her legs turn to jelly beneath her, and she collapsed onto a chair. Her entire body was shaking, convulsing from the pain shooting up her right arm. She swore her bones were bruised as well.

Standing and shaken up, Hermione shuffled to the sink. She started the hot water, and let her burning, throbbing wrist indulge in the water. She hissed as the pain tried to soothe, and dug her heel into the wood floor of the kitchenette. She let her tears fall freely now, not sure if it was entirely because of Ron or because of Malfoy.

When the pain finally ceased in her wrist, Hermione shut off the water. She looked up at the small window and saw it was pitch black outside. She sighed, and looked away before doing a double take. She could've swore her reflection had grey eyes. With a sigh, Hermione trudged upstairs to sleep, silently cursing the wizarding world and its fault for her messed up mind.

**A/N: AH! I have to leave now, so this A/N will be quick!**

**Hope you all loved the chapter (I know I did!) And let me just reassure you all that all the relationships in this fic that were hurt in this chapter will be healed :)**

**I don't really have much else to say except that I am tan (burnt, more) and I'm already starting the next chapter, which is one I've been waiting to write for a long time :) I love you all, thanks for sticking with this story if you have :) **

**I use smilies too often...**

**Now I'm rambling like Hermione so I'll go! Don't forget to Review, Favourite and Follow, especially Review; I love hearing you guys' feedback! I love you all :) Also, I currently have 281 Reviews. Whoever is #300, I will mention next chapter!**

**And don't forget my tumblr is: lovelikeawallflower**

**-Eagles**

**P.S. Sorry about the shortness of the chapter...I'm bad at writing fights...they're always super short! :/ **


	24. All I Ever Wanted

**A/N: Quick A/N! WARNING: SMUT.**

**Title from "All I Ever Wanted" from The Prince of Egypt. Such a good song :)**

The last recital was today, the last time Draco's beautiful young daughter would get to dance until September. Haley was a little sad, and Draco could see in her glossy eyes that she was going to miss her weekly classes. He felt bad for her, so he hugged his daughter and squeezed her tight, telling her she was a beautiful ballerina and would dance perfectly tonight.

Although he was happy for his daughter, Draco felt like he was losing a lot tonight. He assumed that after Haley stopped being Hermione's student, he'd no longer see her, and the little 'thing' they had going on was going to end. He tried to ignore the clutching feeling in his stomach as the clock ticked down closer and closer to seven.

They went through the same process as before: Draco dropped Haley off, Haley was helped into her costume and make-up, and then her father arrived at the correct time – seven in the evening. The line wasn't as long as before since he decided to come early, and stood nervously in the lobby. He felt sweaty, like he was about to propose to Granger, not just see her. He saw her almost every day, why was today different?

_Because it could be _the _last day, _he thought silently to himself. He truly had wanted these last days to be just him and Hermione, wrapped in sheets with sweat beads dripping from their foreheads. He wanted to kiss lines from her jaw to her lips, and hover and nip at her plump lips. Draco dreamt of them escaping in the middle of the night to the water to just kiss and run in the water. Maybe it was just Muggle films getting to him, which he watched at least one a week. He knew that their relationship was no longer casual. There were emotions involved now, and it was desperately scary.

He had to admit that although he had been angry at Hermione, his anger finally subsided. Not because he gave in to her being right, but because he couldn't possibly stay mad at her. He tried, for about a month, but he eventually let his fury leave.

However, Hermione didn't know Draco wasn't mad any more. For all she knew, he was still infuriated. They hadn't exactly been on speaking terms ever since the fight. In fact, they hadn't said two words to each other. Hermione still took Haley to and from dance, kept her calm while she slept, and let Draco calm her himself, too. But she hadn't taken Haley back to the psychologist's. While she thought it was a great idea, she didn't want to anger Draco any more than he already was.

They hadn't had sex since before the fight, which was two months ago. It was agony for Hermione. Over the months of their saucy escapade, she had gotten used to his body and his touch. Being without it was complete torture. When she picked Haley up, or had to sit near Draco as they comforted his sleeping daughter, she felt small tingles erupt in her from behind her naval, and got the strangest urges just to attack him with a large, sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. Of course, she never acted on these urges. At least not in real life.

Hermione had come to face facts as she sat backstage, waiting for her cue to go on and introduce the show. Draco Malfoy had dug himself into her life, tearing through her insecurities and secrets, until he was permanently living somewhere above her left breast. However, she couldn't tell him her feelings. Besides, he and her were no longer a 'thing'. They weren't sleeping buddies any more, and this would probably be the last time she saw him in a long time, maybe even for good.

Suddenly, she felt sick. She felt like she couldn't go out, and face an auditorium full of people expecting nothing but the best from the Young Dancers of London. She clutched her stomach, and tears formed in her eyes. Many of the girls around her looked worried as they stood in the wings.

"Hermione, are you alright?" asked a young, slim girl named Patrice. "Are you in pain? You look like you're crying..."

"I'm fine, it's just...," she started, pausing to give her wording some thought. "I've just gotten rather anxious all of a sudden. Guess I'm just not good at speeches..." She let out a small laugh that hid the tears falling down her face. She wiped them away quickly and saw her make-up on her finger, streaked and wet.

"Herman!" Lacey exclaimed, seeing her best friends wallowing in tears. "Wait, what's going on?" she asked, rushing forward from her original position by the stage door, making sure the dressing rooms were quiet and the dancers prepared. "It's not about your parents, is it? Please tell me it's not about them!"

Hermione shook her head quickly, her breathing becoming little staccato heaves. "N-no, it isn't th-them. N-nothing like that...I-I guess I'm just a l-little nervous is all..." She could tell Lacey didn't believe her, but the American was not one to push things too far. "Merlin," she breathed rather quietly. "I c-can't go out there and speak. I'm a-a mess, and I-I'm too nervous now."

Lacey frowned and bent down so she was eye-to-eye with her sitting friend. "Listen to me! Where's that Giffin-lore bravery you've told me about? What happened to that? Because the Hermione who was a Giffin-lore wouldn't sit here. She'd go out and introduce her wonderful work!"

Hermione let a smile invade her face as Lacey gave a rather animated smile. "First, it's Gryffindor," – that comment made Lacey roll her eyes – "and second, you always k-know what to say. Plus, your face reminds me of a Labrador, and who can say no to a puppy?"

Lacey gave a wide grin, and patted Hermione's shoulder. "That's the spirit. Maybe I'll buy you a puppy now." With a muffled grunt, she pulled the nervous girl up to her feet and wiped away the tears. "Now, I want you to go out there, introduce the most kick-ass recital the world has ever seen, and come back here with a beautiful smile on your beautiful face."

With a half-smile, Hermione nodded in agreement. "I will," she said, her voice cracking for hopefully the last time. She patted down her brown tulle skirt and fixed her slate blue cardigan. She pinched her cheeks to add extra colour, and double-checked to see her chignon looked perfect before stepping out onto the stage.

Just like before, Draco noted, Hermione introduced herself as the Artistic Director and said the name of the recital, ("Dancing Pages"). He was rather observant when it came to Granger, he found, ever since their little talk on Haley's birthday. So it was no surprise that he noticed her red nose, flushed cheeks, and watery eyes. She had been crying, and Draco had a horrible feeling in his gut that it was because of him. It was enough to make him feel sick.

This recital was a bit longer than the first one. However, this one also included lots of complicated and interesting dances. There was even the bird dance, which was supposed to be taken from the book of Genesis, in the Bible, as the creatures of Eden. Uneducated on Muggle religion, Draco was rather confused, but found the dance entertaining anyway. He applauded rather loudly when It was finished, and could see exactly how it won 1st place. It definitely deserved it.

When Draco saw Haley's dance begin to come up, he sat a little straighter in his seat. It said she was in "Little Red Riding Hood". He had no idea what the "Hood" story was about, and why it was red, but knew anything his small daughter did would be perfect.

Not knowing the plot, Draco was rather surprised to see six girls dressed in little red and white dresses with a small brown wicker basket in their hands, and adorned with a small red hoods tied around their necks which the hoods were pinned to their hair-sprayed heads. They all started skipping in place and swinging their baskets. Draco noticed a few girls weren't smiling, but Haley was smiling brightly, the gap in her teeth obvious even from Draco's seat (F23). She looked like she was genuinely enjoying herself, and it wasn't long until he felt a small pang of pride in his chest.

While the small girls were doing some sort of spin, (which at home, Haley had called a soutenu) a shadow sulked into the scene. Draco became tense, and reached for his wand which rested deep in his nice trousers pocket. However, before he could react, the shadow came forward to reveal another dancer in a rather realistic wolf costume. Instantly, the young girls pressed their palms flat against their cheeks and looked at each other in fear. It took a few counts of choreographed dance of the girls mocking the wolf did Draco realise it was supposed to happen.

He relaxed, and watched the rest of the dance. The girls then circled close to the wolf, and along with a little turn, hit him – Draco assumed it was a him – with their wicker baskets. The wolf cowered in fear, the girls grabbed each other's baskets and skipped off. At the last count, Haley, who skipped at the end of the line, turned around and stuck her tongue out at the wolf, and laughed. She turned so quickly, her hood fell from her head. She grabbed her bare head, blushed, and skipped off stage.

Draco clapped greatly, but dug his heels in the ground, telling himself Haley was fine and she did a great job. She _did _do a great job, but he knew that if she was anything like him, she was backstage overly upset over the fact her hood fell. The dance was beautiful, and it really showed off Haley's acting abilities Draco didn't know she had. Maybe she'd be an actress too, and the stage would become her second home. But he had an inkling that Haley was only thinking about how she messed up.

He could hardly focus on the rest of the recital. He was tapping his foot impatiently, wishing for the curtains just to close so he could find Haley and talk to her about what happened, and reassure her she did a fantastic job. Draco tuned out the rest of the recital until he recognised that the last dance ("A Tribute to Dickens") finished. The scorched navy curtain closed before, and as usual, the finale began with lines of the dances running out gracefully, bowing and running backwards. Once stationary, the groups of dancers clapped in sync, almost as if they were robots.

It felt like Groundhog Day as Hermione made her way to the front again. Draco took a deep breath, and cleared his throat. Trying to keep his body low to the ground as to not disturb the other members of the audience, he slowly moved from his seat – which, unfortunately, rested in the middle of the row – to the exit. He couldn't bear it any longer, being in Granger's presence on possibly their last day. Draco felt like someone had lodged a log in his throat as her hypnotic voice echoed throughout the silent theatre. She looked so beautiful all dressed up with the lights shining down on her. The spotlight made her skin shimmer like the most gorgeous diamonds, and her chocolate brown eyes contrasted to its specks of green. Her lips, poised and moving, were enticing, and Draco found himself sneaking peeks at her while he attempted to stealthily move out of the auditorium. Although, and he would never admit it to anyone, he rather quite liked Granger's appearance better when her crazy hair was standing out at all ends, her lips were swollen and wet, and her incredible body was merely hidden by a sheet. There was no make-up, no spotlight, no fancy clothes or hairstyles. No, it was the all-natural Granger he liked best. Her weird sleeping positions and all. Granger was breathtaking. And it took many nights of watching her fall asleep in his arms, of kissing her plump lips as she drifted off to sleep that he realised that Hermione hadn't become pretty. She hadn't changed at all. It was Draco. His perspective had changed. He could have been holding a Granger with a uni-brow, acne from head to toe, with her old, big teeth, even maybe have one leg, but he would think she was ravishing any way. Because it was the truth. No matter how she looked, what she wore, or where she was, Granger was, and always would be, the most exquisite person Draco ever had the privilege to know.

His ears tuned out whatever Granger was saying, and he just heard the falling sentence of "...and it has been an amazing experience here, but...," as he hurried out, not even noticing the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. All he cared about was getting away from seeing Granger, and getting to Haley instead.

Draco ignored the orange sign permitting that only female relatives and workers were allowed backstage as he barged into the dressing room. No one was in there yet, and as quick as he could, he found Haley's small pink jacket. He scooped up her clothes and dress bag, and patiently waited for her.

Happily, young Haley was one of the first of the dancers to emerge back into the dressing rooms. "Daddy!" she exclaimed and ran over to her father. "Daddy, Daddy, did you like it? Did you see me?" Her face suddenly fell. "Did you see me mess up? Did you see my hood? I ruined the dance, didn't I, Daddy?"

Draco bent down so he was eye-to-eye with his little daughter. He brushed his hand along her cheek, and felt a wave of nostalgia overcome him. He started to miss when she was small, and needed her daddy for everything. He missed the cute faces she'd make as a fragile baby, and the silly noises she made when she wanted food or to be changed. He wanted to soak in her entire life, to see her live day after day. He didn't want to miss one second because if he did, it'd be one second too many. Draco wished he could relive all of the happy memories over again, or hold a baby again, for he had bonded with Haley the most when she still couldn't talk. It hurt to think he wouldn't have someone to carry on the Malfoy name, or that he wouldn't have another child in general. But he had to enjoy the little bundle of love in front of him. "I did see you, Bug," he smiled widely. "You did absolutely perfect. I loved it. And don't worry about your hood; it looked like it was meant to happen, honest."

He then took Haley's hand in his, promising her that she was the best dancer in the entire world. That made Haley bury her face in her father's rough, large hand, blushing up to her ears. He unlaced her hood and hung it in the bag. He grabbed the basket too, and placed it at the bottom for safe keeping before hoisting Haley up into his arms. Over his daughter's shoulders, he spotted the one person he kept mute to for two months. Hermione smiled upon seeing Malfoy, but it was only a faint one. It was almost as if they had a silent connection between each other.

His eyes still locked on Hermione, Draco whispered "I love you" into Haley's ear, and didn't add, "my perfect daughter" until they had fled the room.

Hermione didn't move from her stationary spot as she watched Malfoy disappear through a door for probably the last time in her life. She sighed, and her happy mood from earlier had been lost in the feeling of loss, and if it were not for the many bustling half-naked girls around her, she would've slid against the wall, and cried herself into oblivion. Instead, she pushed back her emotions for what felt the thousandth time in her life, and went to help someone without being helped.

§

The piles and piles of paperwork Hermione still had left to do were uncountable. It was going on three in the morning, and although she was exhausted from the recital, she still had to fill everything out, host auditions, sign a bit too much, and of course, close up the studio. It felt weird, knowing that the next day, Monday, she wouldn't be here for classes. She wouldn't be picking Haley up or seeing Draco. All those things were things of the past, and her life had to move on now.

She grabbed the seventh pile of paperwork, and Hermione re-dipped her quill. Although she hadn't been to Hogwarts in just about the same amount of time she was there, the quill had become her favourite writing instrument. She didn't get to used it often at work, obviously, but whenever she could, she would. The feather of her quill was a beautiful turquoise colour, that sparkled when you wrote with it. It was rather childish, she supposed, to use a quill that sparkled, but she still found it rather beautiful. Besides, she was quite fond of sparkly things.

With a sigh, she signed more forms, feeling a pang like a bullet in her chest with each scratch of the signed paper. She glanced over at the drawers of cheques and bills she had to sort through next. She cringed slightly at the thought of all the work she still had to do. Of course, being the middle of the night, she couldn't change her Muggle money to Galleons, Sickles and Knuts right now. But, just glancing at the remaining money that didn't go to Lacey, the other teachers, bills, or taxes, Hermione knew there was quite a lot for her, which was good, since she'd been needing a lot of wizard money soon.

Hermione scribbled another _HJG_ on the last form line, and gave a large sigh of relief. She hadn't cried since before the recital, but now she felt as if she could make her own little lake. But no matter how hard she tried, Hermione couldn't find a way to let a single tear fall. She could feel them burrowing in the back of her eyes, but they wouldn't fall. Maybe it was her subconscious telling her crying was fruitless, which it was. Crying wouldn't – couldn't – change anything. Half of this was her decision, half was just the way things were going to be.

Hermione sighed, trying to think through her jumbled thoughts. This was inevitable. It was inevitable that the end of the dance year would come, and their little "relationship" would end. It just felt unfair that it ended so soon. There was still so much that Hermione wanted to know – wanted to learn – about Draco. She almost wished that the other half of the inevitable wasn't going to happen.

Almost.

After the recital today, when Draco looked at her, she felt her spirits lift. Of course, she had noticed his angry state ended after about a month, since after that, he didn't look like he wanted to explode around her. However, he didn't exactly want to talk to her either. Most of the time, he looked torn between confronting her and screaming about how he was still sort of angry, and confronting her and kissing her into tomorrow.

If Hermione had a choice, she would be ashamed to admit she preferred the latter.

She sighed, and stood, realising that all the thoughts that swarmed through her head between signing the form for the last time and standing occurred in about fifteen seconds. It was because of this and other reasons that she wasn't sure why the Sorting Hat didn't put her in Ravenclaw. Her brain worked too fast for her body.

Hermione began to rummage through the drawers of money, trying to sort through what was needed for taxes, bills, and pay-cheques. She was rather good with money, but it was so late at night, she wasn't sure if she could even count to 10. But she did the best that she could, deciding to start with bills.

Draco was thoroughly surprised when he was able to open the door to the academy. He would've thought that at three in the morning it would be locked, but it only increased his suspicions that Granger was there.

He didn't have to look far this time. Granger's office light was on, only just illuminating her workspace. He thought back to the first time he was in here, and that Granger had asked about Astoria. He had answered with "No comment". It seemed funny now, and Draco found himself giving an inward chuckle. It was funny, because eventually he spilled everything out to her, leaving no stone unturned. He had been so different in September, and truthfully liked his present self the best. Granger had changed him for the better.

For his benefit, when Draco reached her door-jamb, Hermione was facing with her back to him, playing with some Muggle money. She looked rather tired, as if she had just run a marathon and then given birth. Her beautiful, shining brown eyes looked black almost, and had bags underneath them. . Her hands were shaking as she sorted through the notes that Draco hardly understood. She looked as if she were on the verge of crying, and he wondered if it was because of him.

"Hermione?" Draco whispered quietly, looking at her upsetting face. At the sound of her name being called, Hermione's head shot up to the door. It took a moment for her to register who it was, but when she recognised Malfoy's pale face, she took a jump back.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Come to scream at me more? Come to hurt me, too?" she said rather forcefully. She took another step back, and hid her wrist behind her back.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "What? No," he said, keeping his distance. He wanted to show Granger he respected her, so while she kept stepping back, he stayed stationary. "I was worried about you. I came back from St. Mungo's expecting you to be in Haley's room but you weren't." He got very silent, and looked down at his shoes. "I was worried something happened to you..."

Hermione's defensive stance fell. She knew what he was talking about. He had worried that the same things that had happened to Astoria – rape, torture, death – had happened to her. Hermione could almost feel her heart ache. "W-why would I be at your place anyway? Haley's done with dance...I thought I wasn't helping any more."

Draco felt his stomach drop. So his inklings were right. She wasn't staying. "Well, I thought that tonight was going to be the last night. The last hooray," he muttered, slowly becoming quieter and quieter. "Granger, I'm not angry any more," he said, looking back up at her. His eyes instantly met hers, and she let a weak smile show through.

"I know you aren't, Draco," she breathed out, her voice becoming gradually stronger. "I've known for a few weeks. And I have to say, I apologise for taking Haley to the psychologist's without your permission. It was entirely my fault, and I deserved to be shouted at like that."

Malfoy shook his head, and hesitantly took a step forward into her office. "No, no one deserves to be shouted at, no matter what their blood-status. I shouldn't have done it, I feel complete remorse." Hermione was quiet, unsure what to say. Taking a deep breath, Draco stepped closer to Hermione, and closer, so that he was towering over her. "Hermione," he whispered, his warm breath draped over her face. "You should know blood-status means nothing to me. Not any more."

Hermione swallowed hard as her glossy eyes met his, which seemed to be memorising every detail of her. She shivered as one of his hands slowly wrapped around her waist, and the other travelled up to her cheek. Her eyes darted between his, which both seemed to be solely transfixed on her lips. "I – " she started, but stopped as Draco's cold, stone-smooth lips brushed against hers. Shamefully, Hermione let out a moan the moment he captured her bottom lip between his.

They kissed slowly at first, just enjoying the taste and texture of each other's lips. Soon their passions increased, and before they knew it, Draco had pinned Hermione against the wall of her office. His right hand pressed against the wall by her head, while his left hand held her waist, pulling her hips closer to his. Their bodies, both heaving from the distance they had before, were pressed against each other, and Hermione bit down on Draco's bottom lip as his leg went between hers, and she could feel his hard pressed against her thigh. She tried to ignore it, but it had been so long, Hermione could hardly stand it. She didn't notice her hands had drifted until they gripped his belt.

Draco peppered kisses down to her ear and chuckled. "Well well now," he teased, and Hermione felt herself turn red. He felt the heat of a blush transfer to his cheek, and kissed her ear. "Don't be embarrassed, Granger, I like when you take control," he whispered, sending shivers down Hermione's spine. He moved to kiss her again, a little more aggressively this time.

"Really?" Hermione mumbled, catching little breaths through their kissing. "Then I have a great idea."

"Hermione, are you sure this is a good idea? You could hurt yourself," Draco said as his lover emerged from the corridor into one of the studios. She wore only an athletic bra, and a dance skirt, along with her pair of pointe shoes.

"Yes of course," she said, rolling up to her toes. Draco cringed. From far away, it looked beautiful, but from up close, dancing on your toes looked extremely painful. "Besides, these shoes are dead, anyway. Doesn't matter what happens to them. I've got new ones anyway for..." she trailed off as she looked at her feet. The shoes were frayed and soft, hardly supporting her better than normal shoes.

Draco gave a strange look as he wrapped her in a hug from behind when Hermione fell to flat feet. "What do you mean, they're dead? I didn't know shoes could die," he mumbled against her bare shoulder.

"What I mean is they've gone soft. They're unusable, and I would hurt my feet if I tried to dance with them on. So I got a new pair," she turned to face him, and pulled herself up onto her toes. On the shoes, she towered over Draco only slightly. She bent down, and kissed his forehead gently.

Draco grabbed Hermione by the waist and gave her a squeeze. "If it's any consolation, I know something that _hasn't _gone soft." He raised his eyebrows playfully before belting into laughter. He couldn't keep a straight face.

Hermione bit her lip before laughing herself. "I walked into that one didn't I?" she asked. Draco nodded, trying to silent his laughter. "Oh whatever." She rolled her eyes, and bent down to kiss him, quite intrigued by the change of height.

Draco let his lips nip at her lower lip until his tongue was granted entrance into her mouth. He subtly shot his tongue in and out, enjoying her taste slowly and with passion. His hands gradually moved from her waist to her bum. He took one had to move up her skirt, and was surprised to grip bare skin. "No knickers?" Draco asked, pulling away slightly. Hermione dropped down on her feet, and looked up with a blush. He bent down, and nipped at her earlobe. "Sexy," he whispered, and squeezed her bum so hard it made Hermione jump.

"Thought you might like that," Hermione breathed back, taken by the force of his squeeze. She rolled back up so she was taller than Draco, and so his hands relaxed against her bum. Hermione squirmed against his grip, but it only made him smirk, and push her closer to him, almost like Devil's Snare. So, Hermione relaxed against Draco's touch, and pressed her chest against his. She slowly went from up on her toes down to flat, making sure that their lips were centimetres apart as they passed. She breathed against his neck, hot, sweaty breath.

Draco bent down, and kissed her again, trying to kiss her as much as he could. However, Hermione was playing hard to get, and rose again on her toes, breaking their embrace .Giving a slight frown, Draco supported her lower back, and bent forward, making her curl her back like a candy cane. He littered her chest with small kisses before reaching her lips. With much fervour, he pulled, and licked her lips, finally lifting her back into an upright position. He caught a glimpse of the bottom of her breasts for a moment and shivered. His erection twitched as he thought of what he wanted to do.

Hermione bit her swollen lip, and opened her eyes to see Draco looking down at her with hungry eyes. She swallowed her fear, strained her neck to give him a soft kiss before pressing her forehead against his. "T-take off your trousers," she commanded, blushing from trying to be dominant.

Draco raised a cocky eyebrow. "And what if I won't?" he asked, bending down to capture her lips once more. Merlin, he really missed this. Maybe that's why he couldn't hold his grudge too long. He would have missed _this._ Not just the kissing and sex, but the feeling of intimacy and love.

With a snarky grin, Hermione reached around to the front of Draco's trousers. She undid the belt, and threw it across the room. It landed with a clatter against the barre. Neither one of them looked back; they were too transfixed over each other to notice. With quick motions, Hermione unbuckled and unzipped Draco's trousers, and pulled them to the ground. He obediently stepped out, and ripped off his boxer-briefs.

There it was. Draco's fully erect penis. It wasn't like Hermione never looked at it, but now here she was, on her knees, kneading it through her hands like it was some unregistered creature. It looked like a normal erection; firm and pink with veins running to its head. However, she knew it wasn't just any penis. It was Draco's.

Hermione took a deep breath, and pushed her mouth forward, just kissing the tip. She blushed greatly, but continued, bringing larger and larger amounts of him into her mouth as she continued. Draco occasionally moaned, and tried to thrust his hips. It resulted in Hermione gagging a few times, and she had to pull back. She had to admit, it was much more enjoyable than she thought it would be. She pulled out, and just sucked on his tip for a bit while her fingers formed an 'O' shape around his erection, and rubbed it up and down his length. She was about to bring more into her mouth when Draco grasped her hair in his hand. She hadn't realised how hard he had gotten.

"I-I'm...Hermione, I'm going to...to.." He didn't finish his sentence as Hermione felt an eruption, and soon her mouth was filled with his white cum. She didn't want to spit it out in case of offending Draco, so she took a deep breath and swallowed the lot. It actually didn't taste as bad as she was expecting. It was kind of...sweet.

Hermione stood back up, and wiped her mouth. She felt the red travelling to her fingertips as her eyes met Draco's. He still looked liked he was regaining his composure from his orgasm as he gripped his limp penis. He took a trail of Hermione's saliva, and ran it up to his chest, rubbing circles of it around his nipples. "Just give me a minute," he whispered to Hermione. After running his tongue along his lips, Draco gripped Hermione's sides with his sticky hands, and pulled her close. He gently brushed his lips against hers that still contained a bit of his cum. He didn't mind tasting himself; he'd done it before, and truth be told, their was nothing sexier than tasting yourself upon your lover's lips.

Standing up on her toes again, Hermione buried her head near Draco's neck and nipped at his ear. She began to suck on his earlobe, a tender spot she knew she had. It seemed to trigger something in Draco too, and he moaned against her cheek. The vibration travelled down Hermione rib cage to her tender area, and felt it begin to pulse and get even more wet. Her juices dripped down the sides of her inner thighs, and she rubbed them together to get some sort of stimulation.

"Strip," Draco whispered after a moment. "Strip for me, little ballerina."

Rather surprised at his request, but not wanting to displease him, Hermione took a few steps back from Draco, who currently was rubbing himself as he watched her. She took a deep, and sat down on the nice floor. It would need cleaning after this. She undid the ribbons of her shoes, making sure to keep her legs rather spread out as she did. She could practically feel Draco's eyes bore into the back of her head.

She made a purposeful note to kick the shoes across the room near Draco's belt. One landed right next to the belt. The other landed a few feet away, but she couldn't blame herself; she wasn't a football player. As agonisingly slow as she could, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and gripped the elastic of the athletic bra. With a gradual tug, both of Hermione's plump and slightly inflated breasts were revealed. Just like she knew Draco liked, she immediately began to play with her chest, rubbing her nipples through her hands. She moaned slightly as her nipples began to pebble.

"Stop," Draco commanded, and she did. "None of that today. I want all your pleasure to come from me," he said in a deep, scratchy whisper. Hermione nodded, understanding, and hooked her thumbs beneath her skirt. With one quick pull, and a flick of her foot, she was completely nude in front of Draco. "Lay down," he said, now ceasing his caresses of his penis, which was now fully erect once more.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but compromised. She sat down, and pushed herself against the mirror. "Oh, oh yes, Draco, of course. I'm a naughty little ballerina; I need to be taught a lesson," she attempted to whisper sexily.

Draco stifled a laugh, and shook his head back and forth. "Granger, new rule: you aren't allowed to talk dirty okay?" They both laughed at that, just giving small chuckles. And like that, one moment Draco was chuckling, the next moment, he had pounced on Hermione, and glued their lips together. In that instant, they were one person.

As he usually did, Draco kissed Hermione over and over again while his hand did the work down stairs. He held her lips in his mouth, never letting her mouth free to moan. Finally, Draco pulled his fingers out of Hermione, and replaced it. He slide into her nice and slowly, making sure to keep her lips connected to his. After a moment though, Draco sat up, ending the kiss. Hermione moaned deeply and loudly, as if she were getting out all of her pent up pleasure moans at once. "That's the way I like it," he purred into her ear, which just made Hermione groan louder.

"F-faster," she whispered, hardly being able to get anything out. Draco kissed a line down from her jaw to her chest, stopping for a moment to just braze the tips of her nipples, before kissing back up to her ear.

"My pleasure," Draco mumbled near her ear. He gently nipped at her jawline and began to suck, knowing it would leave a love-bite. He began to thrust a bit faster, and moved his hands up to cup Hermione's breasts which bounced in time with his thrusts into her. She moaned, grabbing at his blond strands as she tried to bring him closer.

As Draco made love to her, Hermione looked around the studio she had taught in and danced in a many times. For some reason, it seemed small to her today. But she brushed it off, thinking it must've been because she was focused on Draco, who had begun teasing her by pulling out almost all the way, then sliding in halfway, and over again.

For a change of pace, Hermione mustered up her strength, and flipped them, so that she rode Draco on top. She moaned from absolute pleasure from the new angle. She felt Draco go in further, and with two hands on his chest, she began to bounce on him, adding in a thrust every once in a while. She saw her lover begin to sweat, and heard the slapping sound of her sweating bum against her thighs.

After a few rhythmic hip rolls coming from Draco, Hermione rolled them back over so she could be on the bottom; she missed the coldness of the floor against her back. He ground his hips, causing Hermione's to buck up. Her back arched completely off the ground, and Draco used his hand to hold her lower back supportively. He pressed small, arousing kisses along her chest before resting his head against her breastbone.

"Hey," Draco wondered, furrowing his eyebrows at Hermione's state. Her eyes were watering, and a few tears had already fallen as she glanced around the room with nostalgia. "Granger...Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, pulling her close. He cradled her head in his hand, and looked into her eyes. "Am I hurting you?" he guessed, quickly pulling out.

"No," Hermione answered right away. "Y-you aren't hurting me." She sighed as Draco nestled himself back into her. "It's nothing, really."

"Granger, you're crying. There has to be something wrong," he insisted, reaching to grab her hand lovingly.

Hermione smacked his hand away. "There's nothing wrong. I'm fine, honest." She gave him a longing look to cut it out, and thankfully, Draco sighed, and continued to grind against her rolling hips. Soon, Hermione was gripping Draco hips, begging him to speed up. She was so close, and finally her walls tightened around Draco's erection, and she shook into a thousand shudders as her lower half exploded through her orgasm.

Draco pulled out of Hermione to lap up her juices, purposefully flicking his tongue against her clit every once in a while, which elicited multiple longing groans. Hermione lay, her eyes half closed as she recovered from her post-orgasm. It wasn't long before Draco plunged in again to reach his own release of pleasure.

Malfoy held Granger in his arms afterwards, as they both breathed in deep breaths to calm themselves. Their left hands, interlocked, were gently brushing over Hermione's stomach. She took a deep breath as she felt the old, dysfunctional Dark Mark brand brush her arm. It no longer worked, and the fact that Malfoy had the Mark didn't bother her any more. Before, when she saw it in the bedroom one day, it had startled her so much that she had to close her eyes the whole time. But, after seeing the faded, badly covered tattoo multiple times, it no longer made her want to vomit. She let out a chuckle, seeing that their were holding hands with their branded arms: Draco with his Mark, Hermione with her 'Mudblood' scar.

After a moment of pure bliss and head kissing, Draco spoke up. "Why were you crying?" he asked. There was no need to answer the question of, "When? When was I crying? You must be delusional, Malfoy; too much butterbeer!" Hermione felt her heart sink at the fact that she didn't even know if Draco even _liked _butterbeer.

Hermione closed her eyes, realising he hadn't heard. "I'll tell you someday," she answered. "Not today, not tomorrow, not next week, but someday."

Draco frowned against Hermione's pale skin. "Just like with my secret about Astoria?" he asked. "Wait, are you going to wait forever to tell me?" He pouted, pulling Hermione a little bit closer. "I'm only concerned; that's why I want to know."

"I understand," she said softly, her voice cracking as tears threatened to fall again. "You're allowed to be plenty concerned. But I'll promise you, you will know before the summer ends. I promise." A tear fell down her face at that, and Draco brushed it aside with a kiss.

They lay in silence for a while once more, and Draco just studied Granger like he loved to do. He wasn't a big fan of her sad face, but she still looked crazily gorgeous. He was still hypnotised by her presence that he didn't realise that she stood, her face beet red as she gathered her clothing.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, sitting up quickly. "Hermione, where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. Going back to my office. And I suggest you leave the Academy," she said, tossing Draco's trousers at him. She hurried out of the studio, muttering to herself how stupid she was while grabbing a jacket to put on.

Draco entered Granger's office with his trousers on and shirt in hand. She was sitting on the floor, going through money. "I still don't understand. We just...we just had sex, Granger. For the first time in months, and you just...leave?"

"I thought you said this was our last time...Or was I mistaken?" she asked. "Because I sure thought this was our last time."

Draco started to get worried. "It is! Or was...I don't want it to be though, Granger. I think – for the benefit of Haley, of course – that you should keep helping. I'll pay you more!"

Hermione watched as Draco pulled out Galleons and Galleons from his pockets. "No charge," she muttered, moving some notes around. "But only the summer. It ends in September. No buts," she said with a sigh, feeling her heart break more.

"Just the summer," Draco smiled, putting the notes back in his pocket. "Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione didn't say anything back, and once she heard the door jingle, she curled up into a ball, and began to cry the rest of the tears she had held in. She didn't want to continue over the summer, because she knew when September would come, it would just hurt too much to leave the wonderful, handsome, amazing Draco Malfoy.

**A/N: Sorry the ending was sped up a bit! I couldn't think of a way to end it, but I promise that this mysterious "September" thing comes out next chapter :)**

**The 300th Reviewer was fanatic05! Thank you so much!**

**I love you all, don't forget it! I'm going to bed. Please Reivew, Favourite and Follow if you love my story. I love hearing your feedback. Try and tell me what you think the "September" thing is in a Review! I'll put up the closest guess next chapter!**

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**-Eagles xx**


	25. Silver and Gold

_For Shirley and your love of strawberries,_

When August approached, it was one of the hottest Augusts Britain had seen in a long time. Hermione was traipsing around her flat in shorts and a white tank top most of the time, trying to cool herself with a piece of paper folded and refolded to look like a fan. She had gone out in the sun a few times, trying to get a sufficient tan before she knew she'd lose it. Draco had offered to pay for Haley's classes for the next year ahead of time, but Hermione did not accept the money, claiming, "You don't need to worry about that."

Haley's nightmare progression was getting better. Hermione could now sit in the room for two hours without Haley getting a horrible nightmare. When Draco saw the real thing for himself, he had embraced Hermione in a rather large bear hug. He had smelt her hair, and breathed in her scent that he had gotten used to. She had gone so far as to kiss his cheek lightly before he pressed his lips to hers, and celebrated further across the hall.

The feelings the pair had created during their strange relationship were nothing short of...confusing. Draco supposed it was like the saying, "you never know what you have until its gone". He certainly felt that way about his distant mother. Hermione, however, knew exactly how she felt about Draco now. Even more so when he asked her out on a regular date.

"I heard there was this, um, fireworks show down by well, where the Death Eater attack was before, and I was curious if you'd like to go. You know, since you've done so much for us, and I thought reading had gotten a little boring and – "

Hermione had laughed, cutting Draco from speaking any more. "You really need to find a better way to ask girls out on dates you know." She left him looking rather dazed at her reply, and she just shot him a Malfoy-worthy smirk. "That's a yes, by the way."

Draco had harrumphed, and tried to look as if he wasn't a coward. "Oh, of course, I knew that," he mumbled, looking away suddenly. What was happening to him? He was acting like a teenager trying to ask a girl out, and he was almost positive he didn't like Granger that way! He was eighty percent – seventy-five percent – certain. "It's tomorrow, just so you know. I can pick you up around eight?" he asked with a smile.

And so there they were, seated in a small alleyway in short beach chairs. Hermione had insisted they sit away from the crowd to enjoy the scenery better, otherwise they'd have to shout to whisper over the loudness of the chattering Muggles and the bursting fireworks. It had turned rather chilly as the night persisted, and Hermione pulled the blanket they had brought closer to her. She almost regretted wearing shorts and a strapless shirt with a cardigan. However, Draco had said she looked absolutely stunning which made her blush. She had complimented his outfit too, which was merely a green t-shirt and grey shorts, but it looked good nonetheless.

"I brought some snacks," Hermione said, pulling out a rather large cooler from her bag. Draco looked with wide eyes, but realised it must've been an Extension Charm. Otherwise, it was just a big bag. "Care for something?" The fireworks wouldn't be starting for maybe fifteen minutes or more, and Hermione hadn't eaten much dinner, so she was rather hungry.

Draco, who had seemed to be transfixed, in a trance by her perfectly sculpted ear, finally met her gaze. "Oh, er, sure, that'd be great." He gave a small smile, and pretended not to act like he was nervous. He really had no idea why he was all jittery. Maybe it was because it was the end of the summer, and he knew that with the next starting school year, Hermione may not agree to staying with him. Or perhaps it was because of the heat. Yes, probably the heat.

With a grin, Hermione pulled out two circular, plastic containers. One contained fruit pieces like cantaloup, kiwi, strawberries, blueberries, grapes, and pineapple. In the opposite container, there were carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, cucumbers, celery, and baby tomatoes. There were also dips, like ranch, caramel and cream cheese, which were all dispersed evenly throughout Hermione's small set-up. She grabbed a green grape, dipped it into the cream cheese, and popped it into her mouth. She swallowed, watching Draco's expression change drastically. "What?" she asked when her mouth was empty.

He tried very hard not to laugh, but at her obvious oblivion, Draco guffawed into a bout of laughter. "This is what you bring as a snack to a fireworks show?" Hermione glared at him with burning hot eyes as he continued to chuckle. "Veggies and fruit?"

"I'll have you know," Hermione started as she rummaged through her bag, "that I also brought along crisps." Draco sighed, finally thinking she was normal. But again, he was wrong. "They're banana crisps. They're absolutely scrumptious! Think I bought about fifteen bags while I was in Haiti. This is the last one."

"Haiti? When were you in Haiti?" Draco asked curiously as he reached for the banana crisps. He thought he'd give them a try at least. He took a small, circular piece and bit into it. Not bad, really. It tasted like potato crisps, only with the less obvious fat taste.

Hermione reached back into her bag to pull out another container. "Oh, well, I've travelled a lot. Haiti was one place I'd wanted to go for a long time due to the poverty and horrible conditions there; you know how I am about house-elves..." She trailed off, and Draco rolled his eyes at the mention of house-elves. She never quit. "And I thought that I could help those unfortunate in a third-world country, and I'd never gone to the Caribbean before." She sat up, and placed a few cut strawberries on a plate she fetched, and began to sprinkle them with sugar.

"And how was it?" Draco asked as he watched her make her own little dessert. Strawberries with sugar. He thought it'd be a good idea to make Haley some one day. It would trick her into eating healthily. "Haiti, I mean. Was it as horrible as you expected? More so, less?"

"It was...quite interesting actually," Hermione started, digging into her strawberries as she told her story. "I went with a group of friends I met in America, and trust me when I say it was a definite culture shock. When we landed at the airport – "

Draco held up a hand to pause her. "What's an airport?" he asked seriously. "It's Muggle, isn't it? I've read about it before, I just never knew what it was." he guessed. Hermione nodded.

"It's where a way of transportation called an 'aeroplane' is kept.. An aeroplane is sort of like giant, metal hippogriff that isn't an animal but instead a machine – made of metal and such – to, by wind and engines, fly passengers up into the air and across oceans and such," she explained as best as she could. "It's sort of a difficult to explain well..."

"No, no, it's fine. Perfect imagery, really. Continue, please." Draco shot her a genuine, heart-warming smile, and Hermione felt as if she wanted to lean over and kiss him then. But she didn't and instead cleared her throat.

"Um, okay, well, when we arrived at the airport, people tried to steal out luggage, which was a bit of an annoyance. Also, when you're driving on the road, instead of in here in London where you wait to cross lanes at a certain point, in Haiti, you just honk your horn as loud as you can and hope the person moves over before you run into them!" She began to laugh. "It was actually a rather fun experience on the road in Haiti. Haiti in itself was fun. We went to the beach one day, and on the beach there are these vendors who sell you things you can keep as souvenirs. I bought a little chest that says 'Haiti' on it. I keep all my jewellery in there now. I bargained for it actually. It was originally 15 pounds, and I got it down to five! Also, I was able to spend a lot of time with these young kids and got to know them really well. I even helped them make bracelets and headbands and..."

As Hermione continued to babble on and on about Haiti, Draco just watched her with complete admiration. When he caught Granger talking about something she was passionate about, like travelling and helping things for the greater good, it completely left him feeling dazed and confused about his feelings for her. They were getting increasingly stronger, and he was afraid if she did something else extremely adorable like talk about her times in Haiti, Draco's feelings were going to cross the intersection of Rather Attached To and Falling In Love With. He'd never drifted as far as Care Immensely About before, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for FILW.

"...then the little boy," Hermione started, smiling to her ears, "went over to me and asked me – in Creole of course – if I could lift him up. And I did, and he spent the rest of the day in my arms, never letting go. That's something I'll never – " Draco, overtaken by the brazen side of him, darted forward, and cut her off with a short, sweet kiss. The fireworks hadn't even started yet, but they hadn't needed to. The background of the disappearing sun over the horizon was better than any fireworks display could be.

The kiss lasted only about a minute before Draco retreating slowly, letting his lips brush against hers softly as they parted. "Tell me more about what you like," he said, his voice deep and rather husky-like. "If you would, I mean. I'd love to know more." His eyes glanced up towards Hermione's coffee brown ones, and he gave a genuine kissable smile. "It intrigues me."

Hermione's eyebrows rose so high they could've disappeared into her hair, which down, now went almost past her chest. "You really want to know more about me?" she asked, sitting up straighter. "Well, let's see..." She looked around as if to think of a random fact to say, but had gone speechless. Her eyes suddenly fell on the sugar-coated strawberries in her lap. "Strawberries are my favourite fruit. And I can only eat them with sugar on top. That's the absolute only way to eat strawberries," she explained with a smile. "It used to be my grandmother's favourite afternoon treat."

Draco made a mental note that Granger loved strawberries with sugar as he took in the information. He had the urge to grab her hand, but didn't want things to become too uncomfortable. Despite the fact they'd partaken in sex over a handful of time, this was an actual date, a day in which was supposed to be filled with awkward hand-holding, quick, spontaneous kisses and (hopefully) involve a bed at the end. However, their relationship had somehow gone backwards, and they hadn't exactly held hands in a romantic way before. So, Draco simply kept his hands to himself. "What else?"

"What else?" Hermione repeated, her voice slightly cracking as if the thought of thinking of something else was painful. "Um, well, let me think," she said with a laugh. "My absolute favourite colour is yellow, although I am a fan of other light, neutral tones." That comment made Draco think back to Granger's light brown, pink, and cream parent's house. "I love spring and summer, fuzzy socks are my best friends, and if I could only drink one thing for the rest of my life, it would be milkshakes. Not chocolate or vanilla, but – "

"Strawberry," Draco interrupted with a wicked grin. "And I can guess that strawberry ice cream is your favourite as well?" Hermione blushed to her chest, and it took all of Draco's will-power not to follow her reddening skin with his greedy eyes. "Mines pistachio. Love the nuts, too. Always have." He gave a smirk in her direction. "Plus, they're green."

Hermione laughed, and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Malfoy, you and your green. I think if you could marry green, you would."

"Just house pride, Granger. It's just house pride." Malfoy smirked, finally deciding to wrap his arm around her shoulder, just barely touching her.

Hermione usually would tense when Draco would touch her, but today she relaxed to his touch. "If I can change the subject, I'm rather afraid of dying. After seeing the war and everything, and seeing all my friends die...I'm suddenly so frightened of going down the path they went...of just dying. I know I should be excited to see them someday if there is such a thing as afterlife, but I'm not ready to die. I don't think I ever will be..."

As Hermione talked about death, Draco could feel his stomach tightened. He couldn't believe Hermione Granger, War Hero, ever thought about dying. Hell, he never thought she of all people would be afraid of death. "If it makes things better, I'm afraid of dying too," he said truthfully, pulling her closer a bit.

"You are?" Hermione asked quickly. "I would think you wouldn't be, Malfoy. You care for Haley, for your mum, you cared for Astoria...I would think you'd laugh in the face of death."

"Me?" Draco asked. "Laugh in the face of death? Hardly. I'd cower. That's what Slytherin's do, right? Cower." He was quiet for a moment before furthering the matter. "Death is rather frightful to me because I imagine that nobody will ever remember me. That I'll be laughed at, and I won't be able to stand up for myself." He'd never admitted that to anyone, nor had he thought extensively about it. Granger made him think about things that would normally make him uncomfortable. She had a special way of breaking into his mind to the things he wouldn't even admit to himself.

"And another thing about death that I don't like: I don't like the fact that when I die someday, there will be people crying over my dead body. I've never liked the idea of people grieving over my death. I'm not sure why, but I'd rather everyone be happy." She sighed sadly. "I'm sorry I've just been ranting about death."

Draco shook his head and pulled her closer. "It's fine. I'm glad you did," he smiled and kissed her cheek, leaving the smile branded on her skin. "Have I ever told you the story about the day Haley was born?" he asked quietly, keeping his nose just brushing against her ear as he spoke. He thought if they were to talk about death, the great extreme, they might as well talk about the other great extreme: life. He felt Hermione shake her head, and he pulled away from her slightly, and repositioned himself so his lips were directly next to the shell of her ear. "I had just become a certified Healer at the time, and I was still getting used to the corridors of Mungo's. Astoria had gone into labour while I finishing up with a patient, but I hadn't known yet. I was going to clock out when one of the other Healers asked if I could please stand in for him in the East Wing – where the babies are born. He had to go to the bathroom, and he explained that the woman wasn't too far along, and all I had to do was supervise her. I agreed, but the moment I stepped into the room, I could see the baby's head. Another Healer was there, telling her to push, and the woman was screaming back. I thought 'I recognise that scream' and saw that it was Astoria. I apologised for being so late – but didn't add that she never told me, mind you – and minutes later, Haley was born."

"You had no idea Astoria was in labour?" Hermione asked rhetorically with a laugh. "That's classic, Malfoy. I don't know if I find it cute or just stupid!" Draco eventually laughed with Hermione, and it took a good five minutes until their guffaws fell into soft chuckles.

Minutes later, the sky was dark enough to begin the bright, explosive fireworks. As the sparkly, colourful inventions splattered against the sky, Draco found his chest swelling with this unfamiliar feeling when Hermione let her head rest on his shoulder comfortably. He let his own head gently fall on hers as he watched the showcase before them.

The fireworks, which exploded like blooming flowers or the sudden light that floods rooms, shimmered in colours like scarlet red, neon green, and brilliant orange. A few fireworks would go off together in multiple different colours, creating a sort of bouquet look. Others made small sparks that were succeeded by enormous fireworks consisting of ten different colours. It was a rather magical scene.

Throughout the pas de deux of dancing fire, Draco finally grabbed Hermione's hand and interlocked their fingers, not caring any more. He had accepted it to himself that he needed – not wanted, but _needed –_ Granger in his life to function. He was holding her close, and could smell the strawberries on her hair, inferring she used strawberry shampoo, too. Draco felt if he let Hermione go right now, he would not be able to go on with his life. She was all he'd ever need, and he couldn't physically release her body from his arms at the moment.

"You know what would be horribly cliché?" Draco whispered into her ear as if hiding a timid secret. However, they were all alone, sitting in short lawn chairs in an alley, so they was no need to whispering.

"If we kissed right now rather passionately?" Hermione guessed, and Draco could practically hear the smirk in her voice. It was evident throughout her word, and flicked each syllable specially.

"Exactly," he mumbled, his voice going rather husky. He turned, and caught her lips with his, wishing silently that there had been a camera to capture the moment. The moment in which Draco Malfoy could officially say he had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

Neither of them noticed that the fireworks had soon ceased their sparkling show, leaving the two of them kissing in the darkness. Hermione wondered how long their little cliché kiss would last, but she knew she wanted it to go on forever. It was a kiss she could feel through her entire body. From the little nips Draco took at her bottom lip, to the small squeezes from her hand that made her entire arm go numb, to between her thighs, which was currently feeling uncomfortable in her shorts, all the way to the tips of her toes that gently grazed Draco's calves. Everything felt like the world was coming together perfectly and neatly stitched.

Neither of them knew how, but eventually they untangled themselves from the other's body, and packed up their things into Hermione's bag, hardly ever ceasing their kissing. Draco had dropped Haley off at Narcissa's earlier, thinking most likely he'd bring Hermione home. He was extremely grateful that he had when he pinned Granger against the wall with a sloppy, heated kiss. He was eager, a bit too eager, and had already thrown off her cardigan and pulled her strapless shirt down, exposing her lacy nude bra.

"Draco," she laughed against his lips. "Slow down a bit will you?" Hermione nipped slowly at his lips as he tried to speed things up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer, feeling the all-too familiar poke in her thigh. She smiled as Draco slowed down his kisses and tugs. "B-bedroom," she muttered.

But before either of them could even comprehend what was happening, Hermione was bare chested up to Draco, and he was kissing multiple lines between her breasts and down again. And again, neither of them realised when Draco had entered her, and had began to give short, quick thrusts. Their vision and hearing was muffled and fogged by the heat of sex.

Normally when Draco and Hermione would engage in sex, their eyes would be closed, finding it too awkward to gaze into each other's eyes. However, today felt rather different, and almost at once, they both looked at each other, silver eyes against gold. For the first time, Hermione noticed, Draco's eyes didn't seem dilated from lust. In fact, they seemed solely fixed on her, rather than the event they were about to partake in. It was calming almost, and Hermione found herself transfixed on Draco's loving gaze as he slowly found her lips once again.

In that kiss, Hermione found it incredibly impossible not to fall in love right then and there. The kiss felt smooth, like she were kissing petals, but it contrasted well with the roughness of Draco's tongue. She felt the sensation of his lips dancing across hers, and she rolled her hips against his to create more friction, upset at the little pleasure she was receiving. The fabric of the sheets over their bodies created like a shield of protection of the outside world, of what Hermione knew was inevitable.

She ended up on top at the end, only because she had reached her orgasm first, and had repositioned them to help Draco. It was in that position, riding him to his content, that Hermione had finally accepted the fact that Draco Malfoy, though the past-incorrigible git he was, had created a permanent mark in her. Not one that was physical that someone could see, but one she could hold dear to her heart. It was a mark that she could hold in her heart, one that she hoped resembled a tall, gitty, handsome blond that when he smiled made the sun stop shining, and so the last eight minutes of sunshine shined down on him.

Hermione let herself slide out of him when Draco had finally cum inside her. There was silence that should have been awkward but instead was full of feelings. Feelings that instead of made Hermione's insides twist around and around like a pre-teen crush, made her feel replenished, almost as if she had been reborn. Almost as if her life until now had been the incessant waiting room to Living. She had sat in the waiting room, in the same white chair, day after day, seeing people she loved like Harry and Ginny pass through the door to Living hand and hand. She had been sitting for so long, it had almost made her go mental.

But she sighed with relief as she wrapped her arms around Draco's perspired chest, and burrowed her face in the crook of his neck. She could almost imagine taking his hand, and finally walking through the door.

§

In the morning, Hermione found herself in the same position again, but this time Draco's chest was dry, and she wasn't nearly as out of breath as before. It was then that she realised despite the epiphany she had the night before, the sex was...medium. Nothing crazy or sensual that they've had, but just in the middle. And it wasn't nearly as heated and pleasurable as some rounds in the past. It was just...sex.

Hermione pondered on this fact for a while, and she just listened to the sound of Draco's heart thump inside his chest. It pumped blood to every part of his body – and she noticed a part of him was getting rather stiff from the blood – and provided him with perfect life. The pounding noise sounded more like a beating drum than a beating heart, and Hermione could almost imagine a dance in her head to it. The hits and beats were right on, but as she developed the dance further in her head, her movements became too slow for the thumps of Draco's heart, and it took her a moment to realise why. It wasn't until the blond kissed the top of her unruly brown hair that Hermione's eyes met Draco's that looked like slits. "Good morning," she whispered, and bent forward to brush her lips against his. She didn't know if it was too intimate of a gesture, but both of their lips were completely swollen, and she decided to take full use of it.

Draco hummed against her lips before pulling back, and resting his head on the frame of the bed. "Good morning to you, too. You look riveting," he teased. "I love the hairstyle you're sporting." He motioned to Hermione's brown curls, and she reached up, expecting to feel their natural puffiness, but instead felt an unnatural excess of volume on the right side – more than usual, at least.

"Oh, Merlin!" she exclaimed. "Must've slept on it wrong!" She glanced in a mirror to see her hair practically sticking out horizontally on the right side. She quickly patted it down as best as she could. It was a little better, not perfect, but better. "I look absolutely horrible," she laughed, blushing all the way to the tips of her toes.

"Did you forget?" Draco asked, grabbing her hands in his. "I called you riveting. Now, I might be mistaken, but riveting is the greatest word of flattery." He pulled her closer to him, and pressed a calm kiss to her lips. That kiss seemed to have melted away any and all of Granger's insecurities, and he felt her pour all of herself into that one kiss.

"I hardly forgot," Hermione whispered after she finally let herself pull away. She went to go in for another kiss when she heard the familiar sound of talons against a window. She let out an exhale that brushed along Draco's lips and beneath his nose, and the feeling went straight to his groin.

"That must be Augustus," he grumbled. "He's my owl. Probably got the _Prophet_ or something." He pecked Hermione's lips lightly. "Bloody owl always gets in the way of everything." However, this wasn't exactly true. Augustus hadn't actually been around in a long time, which had worried Draco greatly. He'd had the eagle owl since he started Hogwarts.

But before he could even begin to stand up, Hermione was on her feet and shoving on her shorts, shirt and cardigan from the night before. Instead of being askew around the room as they normally would, her clothes were neatly in a pile near the door. "Don't worry, I've got it. You get dressed." That meant no morning sex, which disappointed Draco greatly.

However, he didn't complain as he got a nice view of the witch's arse as she swayed her hips out of the room and down the stairs. He groggily rolled out of bed, and shrugged on a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt. Draco ran his hands through his platinum hair a few times as a brushing, and then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face.

He had just dried off his wet face when Draco heard Hermione clear her voice. He didn't look up, but waved a hand to inform her he was listening. "Who's Ginger?" she asked, her voice weak, as if she had spent the last few minutes not saying a single word. At first, the name was foreign to Draco. He'd never heard of someone – or maybe something – named Ginger. No right person would ever name their child Ginger, it was a name he expected a stripper to have, or –

"Shit," he muttered, trying to be quiet enough so that Granger didn't hear him. _Ginger was the name of the hooker, wasn't it?_ he thought to himself. _That was way back in October, right ? Granger couldn't possibly be angry over something that happened almost a year ago...could she?_ Draco turned to face Hermione, expecting the worst. But what his expectations were did nothing to prepare him for what actually happened.

Hermione held up two items. One was a pamphlet that said, (in bold green letters that sparkled) THE LONDON ANNUAL STRIPPER CONVENTION IS BACK! COME TO RESERVE A SPECIAL SPOT AND BE TREATED WELL BY OUR BEAUTIFUL STAFF! SECOND TIME PRICE IS ONLY 55 GALLEONS! RSVP YOUR OWN ROOM FOR THE FULL THRILL! SAME WEEKEND: SECOND WEEKEND IN OCTOBER.

The second item, which Hermione was holding by its corner as if poisonous, was a card. On the front was the hooker, Ginger, and she kept blowing kisses and making sexual faces towards Draco. He blushed a deep red colour so vibrant he was certain it didn't have a classification yet. The card was strawberry red with lime green letters that read: 'Miss you! Come back for a second round, will you?' Hermione violently open the card so hard that a piece of the crease ripped off. A photograph featuring Draco kissing Ginger hungrily and pushing her one the bed floated down to the ground slowly. Hermione stopped it with her foot, crushing the picture beneath her heeled feet. "Care to explain all of this Draco? Or am I just going to have to guess?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"N-no, Hermione, give me a moment, I can explain everything, just – " Draco gave a loud groan. She had pounced this on him so suddenly. He didn't have time to think, to make up a speech. When put on the spot like this, Draco was a horrible, babbling mess. "I-uh," he thought. Hermione strained her neck as she waited, maybe thinking if she could hear better, Draco would speak sooner.

"Because what it looks like to me is that you went to a strip club, am I correct?" she asked. Draco gave a small nod, and she gave a satisfied look, like when Sherlock Holmes solves a case, and is proven to be – yet again – correct.

"What's wrong with going to strip clubs?" Draco snapped back. "I'm only human, Granger. Humans go to strips clubs, and humans shag hookers. It's a bachelor's lifestyle, Granger, understand?" Draco suddenly found himself closer to Hermione than he was originally. He followed every line of her face with his eyes. From the arch of her eyebrows down to the curve of her nose, the mountains of her lips, that when she smiled (which she, sadly, currently wasn't) would connect to the valleys of her eyes. Every part of her looked perfect, even when she was utterly mad at him.

Hermione rolled her perfect brown eyes that were looking less perfect now, and scoffed. "I'm not daft, Malfoy! One, I know strip clubs are normal. But two, did you not read this?" she asked, flinging the pamphlet to his face. "It says the next 'Annual Stripper Convention' will be held the same time as last: the second weekend of October. That's the weekend I watched Haley for you while you had a 'business meeting' wasn't it?" Again, Draco went quiet. "They don't call me the brightest witch of my age for nothing, you know," she said softly, although the subtext of her voice was anger and frustration.

Draco rolled his eyes, and took a step back. "I'll have you know that Blaise Zabini made me go! I didn't want to, but that 'friend' of mine is a horn-monster! He persuaded me to do it, Granger. I never would have gone be it not for him." He watched as Hermione rolled her eyes. It was as if that motion went straight to his heart and it made it break. "You-you don't believe me..." he said with suddenly realisation.

Hermione's face was guilty of mistrust. Her eyebrows had fallen, and her lips were in a slightly pointed position. Her eyes looked as if they were physically drooping, as if she was mad at herself for not believing him. "It's just so hard," she whispered. "I poured out so much to you yesterday. I've wasted eight months on you, Draco Malfoy! Eight months that I could've spent on my work, or invested in somebody else other than someone I knew – I _knew _so perfectly well – could hurt me. I let myself become involved in your life, and I let you invade me in every personal way. But now I know you can throw me away just as easily as this 'Ginger' girl!"

"Granger!" Draco exclaimed, and practically marched forward towards her. "I slept with Ginger, or whatever her real name is, a good while before I even kissed you! Does it really matter if I slept with her? I slept with numerous girls at Hogwarts, and I slept with Astoria, and none of those things have ever bothered you before!" Hermione bit her lip, and looked down. "Wait – it bothers you? Why the hell would it?"

"Because – because!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "I was fine before because I knew you slept with girls back when I was still in school, long before any of this happened. I had already accepted it. Then when I saw you had a daughter, well, you have to have sex to do that, and when you mentioned your wife had died, then that automatically meant you had been rather abstinent for a while." She ignored Draco's comment of "not my choice" and continued talking. "But until now, I thought I was the only one you had been intimate with in a while and I...I guess this changes things."

Draco was entirely confused. "How the hell does this change things?" he asked, his voice getting a bit louder. "All I know is that you're just confusing me! This is bullshit, Hermione! I slept with that woman back in October when we weren't even acquaintances! She has no connection to me whatsoever! She's just a number!" As soon as the words fell out of his mouth, Draco knew it was the wrong thing to say. If he had a Time Turner, he'd go back one hour and wake up early, stop the letter from ever reaching Hermione's hands, and make sure to bury that in the past. Then they could still be sleeping, maybe even have morning sex, and then Draco could have held Hermione close to his chest and everything would be okay. But at the moment, nothing seemed okay. He usually was the one angry at her, not the other way around. This was definitely not okay. Not okay.

"A NUMBER?" Hermione screamed, her voice going high. "Never mind, Malfoy, I can't believe I even thought you could have a heart. Just because she was someone you didn't think you'd have a future with doesn't make her not a human. She's a human and a female with a life and a name other than Ginger! I am sick of this, Malfoy! First, you lied to me by saying you had a business meeting, second, you slept with a prostitute, and third, you called her a number! Just because she spread her legs for you willingly doesn't make her any less of a person! Or does it in your mind? Am I now a number? What am I, number 69?" she scoffed, and crossed her arms over her chest she couldn't believe she let him touch.

"Granger, you aren't a number," Draco said, his voice going a bit quieter than he wished. "Listen to me, please. I didn't mean to say it. You're different, Hermione. There's a reason I've held onto you for so long, regardless of anything in the past. You are the reason I changed, Hermione! I've changed because of you!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, not finding any of Draco's words even remotely truthful. "Then I must've been a horrible influence on you..." she muttered. She felt like crying. She had trusted Draco, and now it felt like she was dangling from a single red thread suspended around his waist. She could see him with his scissors teasingly circling her thread. She could picture herself screaming for him to give her a chance, to not cut the thread, her only lifeline. Her mind seemed to be working in reverse, and instead of walking through the door to Living with Draco, they had rewound, and she was left to be chained to her chair forever. She imagined seeing Draco walk through the door with multiple women hanging from his arms.

They were quiet for a moment, and Draco broke the silence. "When will you finally accept my answer?" he asked. "When will you realise that I'm being truthful, Hermione? You're over-analysing everything! I have no idea what's going on in your mind, but there's nothing wrong with me going to strip clubs!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding me, Draco? Think about it; if you can hook up with any women you wish and just leave her behind, what am I? I'm nothing! I'm exactly the same! I'm a whore. I can't believe you would sink so low as to sleep with a prostitute, Draco! And then got me to sleep with you and – ugh! I can't believe you, I really can't, Draco!" She wasn't yelling, but it was more of talking in an assertive tone, almost as if she was reprimanding him. "If you can let go of just a random hook-up so easily, can't you do the same with me?"

"It's different with you!" Draco persisted, and he stepped forward to grab her arms. He missed and grabbed her wrists instead, which caused Hermione to scowl and practically push herself against the wall to escape Draco. It felt so weird, to have been holding her close to him just a mere twenty minutes ago, and now Hermione seemed to want nothing to do with him. "You aren't like the others!"

And there it was, the tip of the iceberg. The icing on the cake. The last straw. "The others? So you categorise me with them?" she spat the latter pronoun as if it were poison, something Draco knew he would do in the past with Hermione's old unfortunate nickname. "That's it," she said quietly, and turned on her heel. Draco heard the patters of her feet on the stairs as she hurried down them. He raced down after her, feeling déjà vu for reasons he didn't know.

"No, Granger, I didn't mean it like that I – " Draco cut himself off as he turned the corner to see her crying at the threshold. He was puzzled for a moment, and tore apart the scene in front of him. Granger's eyes were pooling with tears, and her mouth had contorted to this strange smile-frown. Her nose was gradually becoming redder as time passed, and her body shook every few seconds. Had it not been for her normally strong stature, Draco would've guessed she was going to throw up from her strange convulsions. His eyes rested on her right hand which held the knob tightly in her grasp. She looked upset, almost as if she were sorry for something.

"I'm leaving," she whispered, and the giant tears finally rolled down her face. She looked down almost shamefully, and let out a long, jagged breath. Hermione's voice was quiet, almost like that of a frightened mouse, and it didn't suit her very well.

"You've made that quite obvious," Draco grumbled to himself. He watched her body, and she shifted uncomfortably. Why wasn't she leaving? Why say 'I'm leaving' and then stay stationary. It made no sense to him, but he watched, intrigued by Hermione's cryptic being.

She finally looked back up, and the tears had stood. They still threatened to fall, but didn't find their ways down the forgone trails. "No, Draco, I'm _leaving._" She could tell he still didn't understand, so she took a deep breath to continue. "I'm leaving Britain. I got a scholarship a long time ago for the most prestigious magical dance company in the world. But it's in Russia." Her voice had started to become stronger, and she looked more angry now. "I was so afraid to tell you. I thought about turning down this once in a lifetime oppurtunity for the studio here...and for you. But I didn't." Hermione was fuming now, and the tears were fully scorching her cheeks. "You're a bastard, and I can't believe I didn't see it earlier."

"Hermione, wait, I – " But Draco was too late. At Hermione's last words, she had turned the knob and fled the place, bracing the warm August heat that contrasted in the cold argument. An argument in which Draco didn't know who won. But he supposed it didn't matter any more. Hermione was gone. He didn't know if she was bluffing and would be back tomorrow to apologise, but for now she was gone. Gone like his slowly burning paper heart.

§

Hermione had all her bags packed, including the new pointe shoes the Weasley's had got her for Christmas. They knew she'd need them, and she was incredibly grateful. Russia was going to be such a new experience, and she needed new shoes. They sat in her carry-on above her head on the plane, and Hermione closed her eyes, knowing it would be a long flight to Moscow, and she'd need her sleep.

Lacey was taking over the studio along with the other teachers. If things went well in Moscow, Hermione wouldn't go back, and Lacey would be the new owner. It didn't upset Hermione or scare her. In fact, she was rather happy.

Of course her mind had never left the thought of Draco since their fight nearly a week ago. As Hermione saw London grow smaller beneath her, she felt regret in never saying goodbye to Haley, and for never telling her where she was going. Draco, for all she cared, could rot in hell.

She didn't need to care or think about him any more though, she had tried to tell herself. Life would be new and different in Russia, without a Malfoy to distract her. It almost felt like she was being reborn. Reborn to dance.

**A/N: I apologise for the wait, but I have my reasons.**

**On the 9/4/13, I lost my grandmother to pneumonia, lost my great grandfather on 15/4/13 to old age, and my good friend Allie to a car crash last night, so I've been grieving a bit. I've also been up to my eyeballs in a research paper and the play I'm going to be in next weekend.**

**I'm sort of sad because of the deaths recently. I dedicated this chapter to my grandmother, (Shirley) and I hope you liked it. It's quite a game-changer, and things will never be the same now. The person who was the closest in their guess what ANEwrites, so congratulations!**

**Please Review, Favourite and Follow, since it makes me happy and smile. I love you guys so much, so tell me your thoughts about this and the whole surprise of Hermione leaving to go to a Russian ballet company! **

**Well, I think that's all. Sorry that I'm not super excited and happy and all.**

**Oh, and title comes from the song "Silver and Gold" from Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer :) **

**-Eagles**


	26. Now the Page Has Turned

**A/N: So this chapter starts getting this rolling. The chapter title comes from the song, "Time of Our Lives" by Tyrone Wells.**

Moscow could be described in one word: beautiful. The sunset over the river was gorgeous, shining in bright, extensive colours. The architecture that looked like forever swirls of multicoloured ice cream shined against the sun. The wonderful sounds of speedy Russian over the music playing through open windows of flats around the city harmonised with the distant sounds of ferries. Moscow was beautiful.

Of course, it was beautiful if you ignored everything else. The road rage, the Russian being screamed that sounded incredibly like profanity, the beggars that would try to latch onto your ankles to keep you from moving, and the constant smell of cigarettes, vodka, and petrol; it was unbearably disgusting. When Hermione landed at the airport, she thought Moscow was beautiful, but after living there for a week in the hotel she was staying in, she had seen enough of that city to last seven lifetimes.

Her scholarship with the company didn't officially begin until next Monday – a mere three days away – so in the meantime, she thought she'd meet up with one of the girls she'd been dancing with. Her name was Ana Schrattenthaler from Austria, and that's all Hermione knew. They planned on meeting in a nice café by the river to talk about dance in general, and just get to know someone so they both weren't going into this blind (this was Ana's first year too). Ana had owled Hermione, and of course she said yes.

Hermione had nothing to recognise her from, but found it extremely easy to spot her when she saw a girl with long white blonde hair standing in fifth position while ordering a decaf pumpkin spice latte. "Ana?" she asked hesitantly, and tapped the girl on her shoulder.

The first thing Hermione noticed about the girl in front of her when she turned was her eyes. They were blue. And not just blue, but an ice blue. _No, ice is translucent,_ Hermione reminded herself, w_hich would mean it reflects some light, not exactly giving its own colour._ No, a better word was crystal blue. Crystals were often tinted blue, and that's what it reminded Hermione of: crystals. The second thing she noticed was her thin face, and her lips, which when Ana was biting them in a thinking look (like now), seemed to be like one straight line. Besides being beautiful, Ana was one of the skinniest girls Hermione had ever seen. Not unhealthily skinny (at least she hoped not. It was hard to tell while Ana wore a cardigan), but just thin. It made Hermione slightly self-conscious of her own curvy body.

"Air-mi-o-nay?" Ana said, a hint of enthusiasm in her voice. "It is great to finally meet you!" She embraced her in a full-frontal hug, and Hermione whispered a quick "It's Her-my-oh-knee, actually," while in the chest-crunching hug. However, Ana must not have heard her, for she continued to butcher her name over and over again. "Come Air-mi-o-nay, I will buy you your drink, yes?"

Hermione was about to interject and say she was completely fine, but Ana insisted, and well, she had insisted, hadn't she? With a small smile parading her lips, she ordered just a small frappecino. (She didn't want Ana spending too much money on her. Although, she didn't really know how many pounds were to 250 rubles).

They sat down at a nice, small table (actually it was _very_ small. For such a large country as Russia was, this café sure had small tables. They were so small, in fact, Hermione and Ana's knees were touching). Ana took a sip of her coffee before speaking. "I am missing my grandfather's funeral for this," she said without a hint of a joking matter.

Out of everything that could have come out of Ana's mouth, that was hardly what Hermione was expecting. She chuckled and smiled as if Ana was kidding around, but she didn't laugh along with her. "That's a joke, right?" she asked, slowly quieting down. "Wait...you're not joking are you?"

Ana shook her head. "My grandfather died last week when I arrived here. And I could have gone home but I would have lost my scholarship. He practically raised me along with my mum, and I was really distraught from his death...But I am sure he would understand. He was always supportive of my dance career."

Out of curious habit, Hermione began to ask more questions until she had gotten to the housing question. "So where are you living?" she asked, and finished downing her coffee. It had gotten cold while she had been listening intently to Ana speaking about her home in Austria. She had four siblings who all had different talents. Her brother, Claus, played the violin; her sister, Julia, had an amazing memory; her other brother, Jakob, was a fantastic at chemistry; and her youngest sister, Bianca, had an ear for music. Or at least that's what Ana told her. She lived in a small house right by rolling green hills, and had always dreamed of becoming a famous ballerina, and she was hoping this was her chance.

Ana's eyebrows knit together as she took the final sip of her latte. "Er, well, I am staying at Tantsor Flat. TSR for short. Have you not heard of it?" When Hermione shook her head no, Ana elaborated. "It is basically this flat where a lot of the dancers partaking in the company room together and pitch in to pay rent. It has been going on since the company started about one hundred years ago. Most of the girls at that time were fourteen or fifteen, and a lot were not native to the area. So they all decided to room together, practise ballet together, just do everything together so no one was in much danger. They rented TSR years and years over again so much that now it is automatically given to the dancers of the company the next year. Neat, huh?" she asked after explaining. "It is a rather nice flat, and about eight other girls in the company live there. I think the other ten are from Moscow."

"That's quite amazing," Hermione said. "Brilliant, actually. I just thought we had to come here and fend for ourselves. I'm staying in a hotel for the moment, and I was actually nervous about housing arrangements." She still seemed in awe as she talked. "Really, that's great."

"You can move in," Ana said plainly. "You do not have to ask or wait for me to invite you to move in. It is giant. It comfortably fits about eleven or twelve and right now there is nine of us," she said. "TSR is a great place to be, Air-mi-o-nay. I am sure Esther would not mind another flatmate."

Hermione drew away her rather full cup and took Ana's from her, tossing it in the trash as well. "Esther?" she asked as they stood up. "Who's she?" They exited the café with much regret. Immediately Ana wrapped her cardigan around herself, and Hermione repositioned her hat, which had been slightly tilted off-centre by a gust of cold wind.

"The oldest girl in TSR," she explained. "Oh, not age-wise," she corrected after Hermione had begun to do the maths on her fingers. "She is the oldest experience-wise. She entered the company when she was thirteen through their junior company and has been involved for about eight years. Everyone else has been around seven or less, like you and I being the new people," she explained. "Esther does not really have a say on _who _gets to stay, but she does get to decide _how many_ are allowed to stay. She has not booted anyone yet, so I doubt she will. But there is just something about her..." Ana shivered at the thought.

"Something about her?" Hermione asked, almost fast-walking to keep up with Ana; her long legs made it able for one step to be equal to three of Hermione's steps. "What's wrong with her? Does she not like...Mudbloods?" she asked quietly.

"No!" Ana exclaimed, looking completely offended. "Nothing like that. She is just...very different, I guess you would say," she said. "You will see what I mean. And use that kind of language around me, and I will tell Ms Gunin. She will kick you out immediately." Ms Gunin was the current owner of the company, having it been passed down through generations of Gunins. Apparently, she was very strict and very meticulous about the people in her company. It was a miracle Hermione even made it in. "I will come with you to get your things – you are staying in TSR now."

Unable to think of a way out of the offer, Hermione brought Ana back to her hotel to grab her only belongings in Russia – all of her clothes, her dance belongings, and her hair products. She stuffed them easily in her bag with the Extension Charm ("You really did that when you were 17? Impressive!") and then went on her way. Ana led the way to TSR, which, surprisingly, was only a few blocks away from her former residence.

When they reached the door to the flat, Hermione could automatically tell the difference. Unlike the many doors residing on its side, TSR's door was shiny, as if polished daily, its knob crystal while the others' brass, and there was a gold plate directly in front of Hermione with the bold words, "Tantsor Flat: Reserved for Tantsor Dancers Only" in both Russian and English carved in it. "Oh, er, nice," she said quietly.

Ana rolled her eyes. "I know, it is a bit gaudy, but that is how Ms Gunin likes it. The gaudier, the better." She began to rummage through her bag. "Now where is that blasted – there it is." Ana unveiled a wand that wasn't one of Ollivander's, for his were never such a light shade of blue. On the side was a dent that varied in depth and size as you went along the scar.

"What kind of wand is that?" Hermione asked, stepping a bit closer to observe it. It almost seemed to sparkle as Ana twirled it around her fingers.

"Oh, this? It is a Poppmeier. Poppmeier's makes the best wands in all of Austria. Perhaps the world! The wands come in a rainbow of colours and to each owner it has a different look and speciality spell," she explained. "For example, my wand sparkles in my hands, so you know it is mine. And the speciality spell is the Summoning Charm. The moment I learned it, the cloth I was aiming for came right to my hands." She gave a small pout. "It is sometime unfair though. Bianca's speciality spell is the Patronus Charm..."

"That's extremely exquisite!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes still looking eagerly on the shimmering wand."My wand comes from the best wand shop in Britain, Ollivander's." She pulled her wand out, suddenly realising how dull the plan brown was against the blue that matched Ana's eyes. "It doesn't do anything special, it's just a normal wand, but I find it rather great," she said, a bit protective of her wand and its maker.

Ana's face widened in surprise. "No, I do not think your wand is bad," she said quickly. "I am just partial to my own. Poppmeiers are great and all, but in Mongolia their wands can emit quick messages through smoke particles back and forth to each other to form words instead of using owls. Of course, that only works with two of the same kind of wand...but I am digressing!" she exclaimed. She pushed her wand through the sleek hole straight through the middle of the knob and turned. "We will get your wand branded, do not worry," she said quietly. She pocketed her wand with the patterned dent looking slightly more scratched than before.

When Ana talked about branding, Hermione instantly thought of Draco and the Dark Mark he bore in their sixth year. She never got to ask him how that felt, or whether he regretted it fully or not. She guessed she was just a little too scared to ask. But now it didn't seem like she would ever get the chance to find out. Her imagination and theories were her only friends now, it seemed. And perhaps Ana.

"Esther?" Ana called once she crossed the threshold. She sought past the entryway and down a short corridor. She stopped briefly at the end of the carpeted hall and turned to her left. With an unappreciated snort, her hands snapped to her hips. "Did you not hear me call your name?" There was some mumbling that couldn't be distinguished before Ana spoke again. "Well, we have another squatter. I am joking, it is another Tantsor dancer, wanting to room...She is from England...Her name is Air-mi-oh-nay...Just come meet her!" Ana persisted.

Hermione was rather good at imagining book characters while reading interesting and descriptive novels, or thinking up how authors looked when they took a quill to parchment and wrote a long, 1600 page textbook on Potions, but for some reason, she was having a hard time picturing her fellow dancers, and that went for Esther as well. For Ana saying she was different and a bit strange, and perhaps intimidating, Hermione was expecting a tall, burly, man-like woman. Instead, the girl in front of her could not even be five foot. "You're Esther?" she asked, in a way that was not supposed to sound offending, but still did.

"Yes, is that a problem?" Esther asked, pushing back her almost hip-length ebony hair. "Good," she said after Hermione shook her head so much her hat fell off. "Leave it until we're done talking," Esther commanded, seeing Hermione's knees begin to bend. "So, what's your name?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Because I'm pretty sure it's not 'Air-mi-oh-nay'," she lolled, hitting Ana's accent perfectly. From behind Esther, Ana slumped and opened the door to a rather spacious room, mumbling obscenities as she entered.

"Oh, er," Hermione began, suddenly caught very much off-guard. "It's er, close. It's Hermione. I'm Hermione Granger, from London, England," she said, and extended a hand.

"Pleasure," Esther said, tightening her crossed arms. "I'm Esther de Wit, Amsterdam," she said. "Now that the formalities are over, shall I kick you out of TSR or do you have a better option?" She gave a smile that would have been sweet on any other face, but on hers it was like poisonous darts at Hermione's helium balloons that created her heart.

However, she cleared her throat and tried to bring down her beaming red face. "Well, I was just wondering if I may stay here. Please," she added after a moment.

Esther's eyes narrowed as she scrutinised Hermione and her body. "How can I be _certain _that you are a part of Tantsor Dance Company, besides the fact you just had coffee with Ana?" she asked, noticing Hermione about to speak. "And yes, I know you had coffee, I can smell it off your breath just vaguely, meaning you only had a little bit, like you didn't like it, or were too busy talking or listening to finish drinking it. Probably the latter, since you were most likely trying to get to know Ana, and everyone knows she can talk for days," she answered Hermione's puzzled look. "I'm observant."

"Like Sherlock Holmes?" Hermione asked, quite in awe still, and put her hand to her mouth, as if it would cover the smell.

"Who?"

"Never mind," she sighed. "I _am_ part of Tantsor, I can show you my letter," she said, and pulled out a neatly laminated letter from a small pocket in her luggage. Esther scoffed, and Hermione shot her a look. "Er," she mumbled, and pulled it out of the lamination sleeve and handed it over to Esther. "There you are." There was a blood stain on it, and a small rip at the top. Hermione had cut her finger on the owl's talons as she had tried to pry it from him, which was where the rip came in.

Hermione had read the letter so many times that she had it memorised. She watched as Esther read the words and mouthed them as she did: _To Miss Hermione Granger, We at the Tantsor Dance Company (that is to say, I) think that the audition you performed for us was exceptional in the categories of creativity, training, and technique. Your ability to pick up choreography was a bit rusty, but still qualified you for our company. We (that is, I) expect to see you at the Tantsor Dance Company Studios in Moscow, Russia on the 1__st__ of September. Failure to exceed our expectations on the first day or failure to appear will give a promising boot of our program. Lovingly, Ms Gunin. _

Hermione had assumed the 'lovingly' part was sarcasm, for Ms Gunin did not seem like the kind of person to be loving. Anyhow, she had read the letter over and over again when she got it a few days before Christmas. It was her favourite present.

She could not lie and say that every time she slept with Malfoy she didn't think about her scholarship. She would wake up in the morning and just think about telling Malfoy, especially when her feelings began to get stronger. But she stopped herself many times until that horrible morning just weeks ago. Hermione shuddered at the thought of it. She didn't want to remember anything about Malfoy or that relationship (if you would call it that) that they had. She cleared her throat and focussed her eyes on Esther instead.

Esther was biting her lip so much it was bleeding. Her eyes kept travelling over the letter, hoping to find some way that it was fake. Her fingers moved against the sharp parchment, but it was authentic. With a sigh, she handed it back. "You take the bed by Ana off of the door to your right, my left, straight to the last door in the back. Don't ask me to repeat it again, you'll find it. Carry your own luggage," she said. "Oh, and don't forget your hat," she added before turning on her heel and slamming the door she had entered from behind her.

"I told you she was different," Ana sniffed, wiping her red eyes with a handkerchief Hermione had let her borrow. She had entered their room to see her sniffling and crying. "She says the most awful things, but she is a great dancer. It is unfair, really. That people with horrible personalities can just be so talented."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her back slightly, trying to make Ana feel better. "I'm sure you're a great dancer," she told her with a genuine smile. "You must be. This is the best company in all of the world for witches and wizards. You're in the best!"

Ana shrugged. "So is she. And so are you." She sighed, and then moved back to her bed. "I am going to go to bed, it has been a long day for me. I am glad you are staying though, Air-mi-oh-nay." She waved her wand silently, and the lights went out, giving Hermione no choice but to sleep as well.

The next two days were slow, and Hermione spent most of her time meeting the other dancers as they all stretched together in their living area. Esther stayed in her room, stretching on her own. Ana explained she does that often, she didn't really like being around everyone.

Hermione had met everyone in Tantsor, and found them all a hell of a lot nicer than Esther. There was one girl, Elaine, from America, who had unruly curly black hair. "You don't have much of an American accent," Hermione had told her. "I mean, you do, just not like an obvious one, like a Southern or New York or Jersey accent," she had said.

"That's because I'm from Indiana," Elaine had said. "I don't think we have much of an accent. But a lot of people think I do."

Now that Hermione was staying in TSR, there was a total of ten girls sharing the flat. Herself, Ana, Esther, Elaine, Ingrid from Copenhagen, who was even taller than Ana, and a bit big boned, but had a great laugh; Estela, from Costa Rica, who always wore a bandana; Carley, from Sydney, who loved reading as much as Hermione did; Li, from Beijing, who could lift her leg over her head; Hanna, from Helsinki, who often talked in fast Finnish over a Muggle telephone; and then Erika, who was from Dublin, and had bright red hair that would make the Weasleys run for their money. During the first day, Hermione had good hour long conversations with each girl (minus Esther) and for a bonding moment before their first day as part of the company, they all (except Esther of course) decided to go to a local shopping centre before their schedules got hectic.

Li, being as polite as she was, opened the clear door for everyone as all nine of them piled through. Hermione stood wide-eyed in the shopping centre, completely in awe. All the other girls must have popped in her a few times, so they did not find it so interesting, but Hermione did.

Walking in, it looked like an old ordinary shopping centre, but as you turned the corner, about a thousand clear spiral staircases of various heights led to different floors. Shimmering light off of crystals danced across the entire area, glittering and illuminating everything around it. Additional sunshine shown down on the multiple shops, spotlighting many of them. It was decorated with golden birds hanging on strings and the Russian flag was hanging on the other side of the main entrance. There were other fall decorations, like the carousel in the middle had been painted brown, orange, and red; many of the shops were having fall sales; and, although Hermione couldn't see them, she could smell some roasted pumpkin seeds.

"This is...amazing," she said, finding her choice of word not satisfactory at all, but at the moment, she could not think. Besides the beautiful simplicity of the shopping centre taking over her, and the smell of the seeds, she picked up a distinct whiff of something else that smelled divine. "Do you smell...pretzel?" she asked the other girls. She hadn't eaten yet today, and something about a cinnamon and sugar pretzel just sounded like it would hit the spot.

The girls all looked at Hermione with the same face, their eyebrows all knit together, and their noses scrunched as if trying to smell what she could. "Er, no," Erika said, shifting in her shoes uncomfortably. "But there's a pretzel shop by the food court over on the other side. Want to go?"

"Can we?" Hermione asked excitedly. "It just...it sounds good, don't you think?"

Everyone else shrugged in response, rather indifferent. "I think a pretzel sounds lovely," piped up Hanna. "I have been wanting to try the raisin one for a while." Soon all the other dancers were on board, and they headed to the other end of the shopping centre, where they were all greeted with scents of sausages, Chinese food, pretzels, pizza, and other stereotypical food from around the world. Estela was especially offended when she saw on the Hispanic menu that the in the English characters "quesadillas" was spelled "kwaysadiyas".

"Well, I'm going to get a pretzel, who will join me?" Hermione asked, heading toward a stand that read "Granny Sue's Pretzels". Soon, she was accompanied by Hanna, Ingrid, and Carley, leaving the others to get whatever food they desired.

"Why pretzels?" Ingrid asked as they sat down at a very small table in the middle of the food court. "I mean, I like them a lot," she said, looking at her salted pretzel, "but that's such a random food, don't you think?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that random, really. Most shopping centres have them, and I could smell them, and it sounded good. It's not science." The other three girls looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Hermione remembered vaguely that they were all pureblood. "It's not Potions," she replaced, and then they finally smiled.

"I can twist like this pretzel," Carley said, standing up immediately. One thing about the blonde in front of Hermione was that she was always daring, and did not get embarrassed at all. "I'm probably more flexible than any of you," she smirked. Almost as if her legs were just wooden sticks attached to her body by string, Carley pulled her left leg up at a 180 degree angle. She smirked and wrapped her back around the side of her leg and smiled.

"Hey!" came a strongly accented Russian man from the side. His voice went up slightly, and his voice echoed slightly. "Got anything else you can twist for me?" he smirked, his eyes looking almost black.

Carley unravelled herself and gave an equal smirk back. "Yeah," she called. "Your neck." She sat back down in her seat, leaving the man with widened eyes and absolutely speechless. She looked back at Hermione, Hanna, and Ingrid, who were speechless too. "Guys used to come onto me all the time. One night I stayed up writing comebacks. Seems to be working."

The rest of the day the girls spent shopping, looking for cute clothes. However, Hermione and Carley sneaked off halfway through the day to a book store, and read up on ballet books in both English and Russian, trying to prepare themselves for the next day. Although together, they hardly spoke a word to each other besides the occasionally, "the upside down 'u' makes a p sound, right?" or "isn't the backwards 'n' pronounced like an 'e'?" When all was settled, they headed back to TSR, fell asleep quickly, and got ready to wake up at five o'clock the next morning.

TSR was a frenzy in the morning. Bobby pins flew like jets across the rooms, hairspray took up eighty percent of the air, tights were ripped as they were hurried on, pointe shoes ribbons were being magically sewn on in haste, and leotards were being slipped on with speed as all the girls hurried to get ready for their first class; the one that would let them stay or cause them to leave.

"Everyone line up by the front door!" Esther called, who had been ready since everyone else woke up. "We're going out to class now! Everyone, single file, behind me!" Many of the girls grumbled at Esther's act of superiority, but went over to the door.

"What makes you the leader?" Hermione burst out. "We can walk on our own, thanks. None of us are seven, you know. I'm a good number of years older than you."

Esther scoffed. "And you're _proud_ of that? Wow..." She snapped her fingers, and the rest of the girls lined up. "Follow me, girls! Ms Gunin _hates _tardiness."

With a sigh, Hermione followed, occasionally checking her bag to make sure she had her correct pointe shoes. Her wand was securely fastened in the side of her bag, ready to take out if necessary. However, Esther led a good route to the studios, and in no time, Hermione was standing in yet another line, behind about fifteen other girls, ten of whom she had never seen in her life.

At the front of the line was Ms Gunin (according to the picture Hermione had received in the mail). In her wrinkly, veined hands she held a crimson wand. She waved it ever so slightly, and a measuring tape flew out of nowhere. It spun around, as if pirouetting, and zoomed toward the first girl, who had a pudgy nose and heavy lidded eyes. She looked unperturbed as it began to measure her. It flew between her legs, across the width of her arms, and finally, around her waist, where it squeezed her the most. Ms Gunin looked closely at her waist and then the tape measure flew back, and idled by her for a moment. "Khrosho," she said, which according to Hermione's little knowledge of the Russian language, meant 'good'.

The next nine girls, who all looked scarily similar to the first in body size and stature, all were given a "Khrosho" and moved to the studio to pin their hair again and to put on their shoes. Esther was next, and Ms Gunin measure her exactly like everyone else, letting her go through without even examining her waist. She didn't really need to. Anyone could look at Esther and know she was thin enough to be a prima ballerina.

When Estela came up, Ms Gunin's frown fell even more as the tape measurer sped around her body, getting a bit bigger measurements than the other girls. "You have gained weight," she said, looking up at Estela. "Turn into a size chetyre and you're out," she said in a thick Russian accent. "Oh, and off with the bandanna," she said, grabbing the blue fabric and pulling it off Estela's head, exposing her little hair.

Hermione felt his heart jump to her throat. A size four? She thought she was a size three...She kept thinking about sizes and weight and getting fat and didn't notice that she was at the front of the line.

"Miss Granger," said Ms Gunin, making Hermione snap out of her trace and jump forward like a scared rabbit. "Ballerinas are meant to be precisely on time with the music and with their moves. You have not made a good first impression...You get no second chance." Immediately the tape measurer began to twist it's way around Hermione, giving off normal measurements except around her breasts, thighs and stomach.

"Ow," Hermione thought as the tape measurer tightened itself around her body. She let out a sigh as he flew back over to Ms Gunin, and she gave a small smile.

"Lose weight. And soon," she said, letting Hermione pass her

As if avoiding the plague, Hermione sprinted into the studio, and joined the others getting ready. She looked down at her stomach as she tied on her pointe shoes with ease. When she had done a few warm-ups, she found Estela. "I'm so sorry about your bandanna," she said.

"It's okay," Estela sighed. "I just was always self conscious about my hair. I've only been cancer free about a year," she explained.

"Cancer – ?" Hermione began, but Ms Gunin had barged in, and began yelling in Russian that all the girls she have been waiting patiently at the barre, not talking.

"We will begin!" she yelled. Hermione hurried to her spot she had picked, right on the end of the barre, and gave a last roll-up before settling her feet in first position. "Pliés, first. Two demi-pliés, then a grand plié, then seven possés, a triple pirouette, and then second position," she said, not giving the tempo. As the music began and everyone got into their place, Hermione realised how fast the music was, and how hard it would be to just do pliés.

By the time they had gravitated into centre work, all of the TSR girls, besides Esther, looked beat. Carley raised her hand as she stood in a poor third position. "Ms Gunin?" she asked. "Could we maybe get some wat-"

"Het vody!" she yelled. "No water!" Hermione jumped slightly at her booming voice. For such an old, wrinkly woman, she had a loud, intimidating voice. "To the corner, Dawning Lady variation!" she yelled.

Everyone headed to the corner, and some girls marked the variation while others went to the front of the line, going through each step in their head so they knew it perfectly. Hermione stood in the back. She had never even heard of the Dawning Lady, or knew the variation! She stood back and watched the first seven girls go, and thought she had the hang of it. By the time she went, she completely messed up on the fouette turns – her ankle had wobbled slightly which caused her to have only five fouettes, not six, and then she went too fast on the pas de couru, so the rest of the variation was off. She felt sick to her stomach as she rejoined the line to try again, this time only doing slightly better.

Near the end of their first four hour long class, Elaine looked like she was about to faint, Li had muttered something under her breath that sounded like a prayer, and Erika had tied and retied her shoes three times. Hermione panted as she watched Ms Gunin talk about form and yet one more variation they would have to perform.

As they practised the new variation over and over again, Hermione felt like something was off. It was a very jumpy variation, and Ms Gunin was looking over at all the girls, her eyebrows knit, wondering about something. "Miss Granger," she said quickly, "will you stop jumping!" Out of shock, Hermione paused, and her face turned a bright red. "What kind of shoes do you have?"

"Gavillians," she sped out of her mouth as if the word was already waiting on the tip of her tongue.

Ms Gunin spat onto the floor, and made a gagging noise. "Get new ones. They're too loud and look disgusting on your feet! A pair of Tesalls works, or Prestibs, or even Liolias. Just not Gavillians. And I say that to everyone. Pyat, shest, sem, vosem!" she counted, and everyone got in place.

Being self-conscious now, Hermione did poorly on the jumping variation. Her shoes practically echoed throughout the room, and she thought she could hear some of the native girls snickering at her Italian fouettes. She blushed as she bowed in finish, and waited for the end of class.

After a short combination that made Hermione feel sick again, the girls bowed and left. As if it were the only water remaining on earth, Hermione took her water bottle and downed it quickly, splashing some on her face. After a moment, her stomach lurched, and she bolted to the bathroom. She puked into the toilet, getting rid of all of the water she just drank and some stomach acid. In the stall next to her, she heard another girl vomit. "Who's there?" she asked with a hoarse voice.

"Elaine," she said quickly before throwing up again. "I'm not used to this intense training..." Both toilets flushed simultaneously, and the girls almost mirrored each other with their bushy hair and pale faces.

"Neither am I," Hermione said as she washed her hands and face. "Is this your first year, too?" she asked curiously.

Elaine nodded. "Yeah...But if throwing up happens every time, I'm not so sure I want to keep going," she sighed. "Li told me getting sick is normal after your first class. Ms Gunin is really cruel, she said. No water, no food and only dance. You can only drink water and eat on your own time...It's sickening."

"Yeah," Hermione said quietly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Did she gain weight? Her face was slightly fatter and maybe her thighs too...She couldn't really tell about her stomach, but maybe she had just gotten curvier. She ran a hand along her neck, desperately hoping she would not get a double chin one day.

"You're not fat," Elaine said quietly. "Don't think you are...Every girl at one time or another looks into the mirror and finds themselves unhappy with their body. Maybe they think they're too short, too tall, not curvy enough, too fat, had a small chest, had a large one...For me it was my eyebrows. I always swore I had a unibrow," she laughed. "But you should not be thinking you're fat, Hermione. Because Ms Gunin is full of bullshit. You are the perfect size, you're beautiful, and no one should ever tell you you aren't. Any guy would be happy to have you, as would any dance company." Elaine gave a sad smile and left the bathroom without another word.

_Any guy would be happy to have me?_ Hermione thought. _But he's not just any guy. He's Draco Malfoy. And he doesn't have people. He hurts them. _She brushed aside a tear and took a deep breath before going back for their second class of the day.

**A/N: I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY for the delay! I know lots of people were wondering if this story was finished or abandoned. THIS STORY WILL NEVER BE ABANDONED, OKAY? And you'll know when it's finished :)**

**I've been really busy these past couple months. I've had a recital, finished school, had funerals to go to, read, write my own novel, and I've had writer's block :( BUT I'M BACK. And I hope this chapter is suffice for the wait :) And yes, I will be writing about Draco's life next. **

**On the 25th, I am leaving for a mission trip until July 4th, so I wanted to get the update out before! I want to wish you all a happy summer, and that I'm still sorry! Also, for those of you who are still sticking with me even though it's been a while since I've updated, I love you!**

**Also, I wrote the Russian with English characters so you could see how it is pronounced. Would you rather me use Russian letters? Tell me in a Review! Also, guess my age! I won't tell you what it is, but guess it!**

**As always, Favourite, Follow, and Review! I love you all! Give me a hundred Reviews for me to read when I return!**

**-Eagles xx**


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